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IN GOD’S WAY 

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BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON 


TRANSLATED FROM THE NORWEGIAN BY 

ELIZABETH CARMICHAEL 

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NEW YORK 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 
150 Worth Street, corner Mission Place 



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Copyright, 1890, by 


JOHN W. LOVELL 




« 

•» 


« * 


TROW'S 

PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY, 
NEW YORK. 


TO MY BEST FRIEND, 


ETATSRAD FREDERIK HEGEL. 


IN REMEMBRANCE, 











































































































Thou never hast been here; yet I roam 
Often up and down and meet thee everywhere. 

Here is no room, nor road 
But thoughts of thee stand forth 
Awaiting me from by-gone days, 

When thou by deeds of faithful friendship 
Brought comfort to my home in all its troubles. 

And ofttimes as I wrote this book, 

Thy kindly eye would beam on me ; 

We were alone then, thou and I, and 
All that silently grew in.to words — 

Here and there the book must needs 
Be like thy heart, thy simple faith, 

And therefore may thy name a blessing unto it impart. 


Aulestad, September n, 1889. 







•4 









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SCHOOL-DAYS. 
































































IN GOD’S WAY 


I. 

In the melting snow on the hill-side by the sea, in the 
last rays of the evening sun, stood a boy of fourteen, 
awestruck. He looked toward the west, out across the 
sea ; he looked toward the east, over town and shore 
and the broad hills ; in the background still higher 
peaks rose far away in the clear sky. 

The storm had lasted a long time ; it had been more 
terrible, too, than any the old people could remember. 
In spite of the new dyke, many ships had been driven 
ashore, and many had sunk. The telegraph brought 
news of wrecks all along the coast, and close by here 
the herring-nets had been broken and washed away, 
oars and anchors had disappeared ; it was even feared 
that the worst was not yet known. 

It was but a few hours since a calm had set in, the 
storm had abated, the gusts of wind ceased, all was 
over — all except the last low grumblings of the storm. 

But the sea was rebellious ; it does not do to stir up 
the deep and then to run away. Far off in the distance 
great sea-waves, higher than houses, came rolling up in 
endless lines with foam-white crests and a crashing 
fall ; the dull, heavy thud was heard across the town 
and shore ; it was like a piece of land slipping away 
down into space. 

Each time the waves at full height stormed the moun- 
tain, the spray was dashed up to a monstrous height ; 
from afar it seemed as though the great white sea- 
monsters of the old legends were trying to land just at 
that very spot. But a few salt splashes were all that 


IO 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


reached the top ; they stung the boy’s cheek as he 
stood there motionless. 

As a rule it was only the very worst westerly storms 
that could dash the spray so high ; but now it had 
reached the top though the air was so calm. No one but 
him had ever seen such a sight. 

Away in the far west, sky and sea seemed melting 
into one in the glow of the setting sun. It was like some 
golden realm of peace ; and all the deep sea-waves, with 
their white crests rolling up from as far as the eye 
could reach, were like banished rebels ; they came 
crowding onward, protesting, million-mouthed. 

The contrast of colouring was now at its height ; no more 
blending of lights and shades, not even a red shimmer 
made its way across. There was a rich, warm glow, here 
a cold, blue-black lay over the sea and snowy coast ; all 
that could be seen of the town from the hill-side dwin- 
dled away and seemed to grow less and less every time 
the boy turned to look inland. But each time he looked 
he felt himself grow more restless and uneasy ; surely 
that was a bad sign ; could more be going to happen ? 
His imagination was startled, and, tired as he was from 
want of sleep, he had no strength to fight against this 
fear. 

The splendour of the sky was disappearing, all the 
colour gradually fading away. The roar from down be- 
low, where the sea-monsters were trying to climb, grew 
louder and louder ; or was it he who heard it more 
plainly? 

Was this meant for him ? What in the world had he 
been doing? Or was he going to do something wrong? 
Once before the same vague fear had proved to be a bad 
omen. 

It was not the storm alone that had frightened him ; 
a short time ago a lay preacher had prophesied that the 
end of the world was at hand ; all the signs of the Bible 
had come to pass, and the prophecies of Jeremiah and 
Daniel were clearly to be understood. It made such a 
sensation that the papers took up the matter and an- 
nounced that the same thing had been foretold so very 
often before, and those prophecies of Jeremiah and 
Daniel were always suited to the occasion. But when 
the hurricane came, and was fiercer and more terrible 


SCHOOL- DA YS. 


ii 


than any that could be remembered ; when ships loosed 
from their moorings were driven up against the wharf, 
crushed themselves and crushing others, and especially 
when night came on and shrouded everything in dark- 
ness, and no lantern even could keep alight, . . . 

the crashing fall of the waves was heard but not seen, 
shouts of command, screamings and great lamentations ; 
and in the streets such terror, roofs were lifted right off, 
houses shook, windows rattled, stones hurled about, and 
the distant screams of those trying to escape only added 
to the fright, . . . then, indeed, were many who re- 

membered the words of the preacher ; God help and 
save us, surely the last day has come and the stars are 
about to fall. The children especially were frightened 
to death. The parents had not time to stay with them ; 
though the last day of the world had come, still there 
was a doubt as to whether it really were the last day, 
and from sheer force of habit it was thought wiser to 
look well after all worldly goods, so they saved what they 
could, and put up bolts and bars, and ran to look to the 
fires, and were busy everywhere. But to the children 
they gave prayer-books and psalm-boolcs, and told them 
to read what was written about earthquakes and other 
plagues, and about the day of judgment ; hurriedly 
they found the places for them, and then ran and left 
them. As if the children could read then ! 

Some there were who went to bed and pulled the 
bedclothes over their heads ; some took their dog or cat 
with them — it was company for them, and they would 
die together. But it happened sometimes that neither 
dog nor cat chose to die under the bedclothes, so then 
there was a fight. 

The boy who now stood up on the top of the hill had 
been absolutely crazy with fear. But he was one of 
those whom fright drove about from place to place — out 
of the house into the street, from the street down to 
the harbour, and then back home again. No less than 
three times had his father been after him, caught him 
and locked him in, but he always managed to get out 
again. Now this was not the sort of thing that could 
have been done with impunity in an ordinary way, for 
no boy was kept more strictly or got such abundance 
of thrashings as Edward Kallem ; but the one benefit 


12 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


the storm brought was that there were no blows that 
night. 

The night passed away, and the stars still shone clear 
until day dawned once more, and the sun was as bright 
as ever ; the storm died away and with it all remains of 
fear. 

But once one has been influenced by anything so ter- 
rifying there will ever after be, as it were, a dread of 
the actual terror. Not only by night in evil dreams, 
but by day when one fancies one’s self safest, it lurks in 
our imagination, ready to seize hold of us at the small- 
est provocation, and devouring us with cunning eyes 
and bated breath drives us sometimes to madness. 

As the lad stood there he began to feel afraid of the 
deepening twilight and the roar of the sea ; and all at 
once a terrible fear came upon him, and all the horrors 
of the last day began afresh. How could he have been 
so foolish as to venture up there, and alone , too ! He 
stood like one paralysed, he dared not move one foot 
forward, it might be noticed, and he was surrounded by 
enemies. He whispered a prayer to his dead mother 
that if this really were the last day, and the resurrection 
set her free, she would come to him up there and stay 
with him ; not with his sister, for she had the head- 
master of the school to take care of her ; but he was 
quite alone. 

But all remained as before. Only toward the west it 
grew lighter, but darker toward the east ; the cold grew 
more intense and reigned supreme ; but there was a 
comforting feeling in the more equal size and monotony 
of all around. By degrees he regained courage, and 
began to breathe more freely — timidly at first, then a 
long-drawn breath several times ; he began then to 
touch himself all over very gently and cautiously, half 
afraid that those invisible powers which were looking 
out for him might suspect some evil. Softly he crept 
away from the edge of the precipice and drew nearer to 
the downward path. He was not going to run away, 
oh dear no ! He was not even sure that he would go 
down ; he might just try ; certainly he would gladly 
come again. But the descent just here was dangerous, 
and really ought to be got over before dark, and at this 
time of year it got dark so very quickly. If he could 


SCHOOL-DA YS. 


J 3 


manage to climb down to the path that led across the 
mountain from the fishing village down below, then 
there would be no danger; but up here — well, he 
would go carefully, cautiously, one little step forward, 
then another quite tiny little step. It was just a trial • 
he would be sure to come again. 

No sooner had he in this way clambered down the 
steepest and most dangerous part of the descent, and 
stood where he felt himself protected from those invis- 
ible powers he had been so anxiously capitulating with, 
than he set to work to cheat them most thoroughly ; 
down he fled, leaping and jumping, bounding like an 
India-rubber ball from one piece of rock to another, till 
suddenly he saw a pointed cap sticking up so far down 
below him that he could only just distinguish it. In an 
instant he came to a dead stop ! His terror and flight, 
all he had just gone through vanished ; not a shadow 
of it remained. Now it was his turn to frighten 
others ; and here came the very boy he had been wait- 
ing for all the time. His excitement, his eyes, his 
whole eager attitude showed how he delighted in the 
knowledge that the other was coming within range. 
How he would give it him! 

The other boy came climbing upward, little suspect- 
ing the danger that awaited him ; slowly he jogged 
along as if enjoying his liberty and solitude : soon his 
heavy boots were heard with their iron heels clanking 
against the stones. 

A well-built lad he was, tall and fair, a year or so 
older than the one awaiting him. He wore coarse cloth 
clothes, and a woollen scarf around his neck ; his hands 
were encased in thick, knitted gloves ; he carried one 
of the little wooden boxes generally used by the peas- 
ants ; it was painted blue, with white and yellow roses. 

A great mystery was now going to be revealed. For 
many days the whole school had been waiting, wonder- 
ing with whom, and how and where this meeting would 
take place, and when the important moment would ar- 
rive when Ole Tuft, confronted by one of the school’s 
most solemn police force would be obliged to confess 
where he went to, and what he did in the afternoons and 
evenings. 

Ole Tuft was the son and only child of a well-to-do 


14 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


peasant along the coast. His father, who had been dead 
now a year, had been one of the most popular lay 
preachers in all the West country, and had early deter- 
mined that his son should be a clergyman, that was why 
he went to the town-school. Ole was clever, industri- 
ous, and so respectful to the masters that he soon was a 
favourite with them all. 

But no one can know a dog by his coat only. This 
most respectful and simple lad began to disappear from 
the playground in the afternoons; he was not at home 
(he lived with his aunt, his father’s sister), and he was not 
at the Schultzes, where he used to help two of the chil- 
dren with their lessons — lie always did that directly after 
dinner ; neither was he at the head-master’s, which was 
the same as being with the master’s adopted daughter, 
Josephine Kallem, Edward’s sister ; Ole and she were 
always so much together. Sometimes the other lads 
would see him go in there, but never come out again, 
and yet they always found Josephine alone when they 
went in to look for him ; for they posted out sentinels, 
and the whole search was carried on most methodically. 
They could track him as far as to the school-yard but no 
farther — surely he could not have disappeared into the 
earth ? They ransacked the yard from one end to the 
other, every corner, every hiding-place was visited over 
and over again ; Josephine herself went about with the 
boys and took them even up to the cock-loft, down into 
the cellar, and into every room where none of the family 
were sitting, assuring them, on her word of honour, that 
he was not there ; but they could look for themselves. 
Where in all the world was he then ? 

It so happened that the dux of the school had just 
won in a lottery “ Les trois Mousquetaires,” by Alexan- 
dre Dumas the elder, a splendid book, with illustrations ; 
but as he sqpn discovered it was not the kind of book 
for so learned a man as he, he offered it as a reward to. 
that one of his school-fellows who could find out where 
Ole Tuft went to, and what he did in the afternoons and 
evenings. This seemed a very enticing offer to Edward 
Kallem ; he had always lived in Spain until about a 
year ago ; he could read French just as well as Norwe- 
gian, and he had heard that “ Les trois Mousquetaires ” 
was the most splendid novel in the world. And now he 


SCHOOL. DA VS. 


*5 

stood sentinel for “ Les trois Mousquetaires.” Hurrah 
for all the three ! now they would be his. 

Down he crept softly, softly, until he reached the 
path ; the culprit was close at hand. 

There was something about Edward Kallem’s head 
that made one think of a bird of prey. The nose was 
like a beak ; the eyes wild looking, partly from their ex- 
pression and partly because they had a slight squint. 
His forehead was sharp and short, the light brown hair 
closely cropped around it. There was an extraordinary 
mobility about him which made one feel that he was 
very agile. He was standing still, but he bent his 
body forward, shifted his feet and raised his arms as 
though .the next moment he would throw himself into 
the air. 

“ Boo-oo ! ” shouted he with all the strength of his 
lungs. How he startled the boy who was climbing up 
— he nearly dropped his box. “Now I have got you ! 
It’s all up with your secret now ! ” 

Ole Tuft was like one turned to stone. 

“ So there you are ! Ha, ha ! What have you got in 
the box ? ” And he rushed at him ; but the other one 
quickly changed his box from right to left hand, and 
held it behind him ; it was impossible for Edward to get 
hold of it. “What are you thinking of lad? Do you 
fancy you can escape ? Give up the box 1 ” 

“ No, you shan’t have it ! ” 

“What ! you won’t obey ? Then I’ll just go down and 
ask.” 

“ No ; oh no ! ” 

“ Indeed but I will though.” 

“ No, you won’t ? ” 

“ Yes, I shall ! ” And he pushed past and tried to go 
down. 

“ I’ll tell all, if only you’ll not tell again.” 

“ Not tell again ? Are you out of your senses ?” 

“ Oh, but you must not tell ! ” 

“ What a ridiculous idea ! Give me the box or I’m 
away down to ask ! ” shouted he. 

“ Well, you’ll not tell about it ? ” And Ole’s eyes filled 
with tears. 

“I won’t promise.” 

“ Don’t tell, Edward ! ” 


i6 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


“I tell you I won’t promise. Out with the box ; look 
sharp ! ” 

“ Indeed it’s nothing wrong. Do you hear, Edward ? ” 

“ Then if it’s nothing wrong, I suppose you can 
give it me. Come, be quick ! ” 

Boylike, Ole took this as a sort of half promise ; he 
looked imploringly at him and began hesitatingly : “ I 
go down there to — to — oh, you know — to walk in the 
ways of God.” This last was said very timidly and he 
burst into tears. 

“ In the ways of God ?” repeated Edward, half uneas- 
ily but highly astonished. 

Then he remembered that once in a very drowsy 
geography class, the master had asked, “ What are the 
best kind of roads or ways ? ” The answer in the lesson- 
book was, “ The best way for the exportation of wares 
is by sea.” 

“ Well,” repeated the master, “what ways are the best ? 
Answer, you, Tuft !” 

“ The ways of God,” answered Tuft. In an instant 
the whole class was wide awake, a roar of laughter gave 
evidence of it. 

But for all that Edward Kallem did not really know 
the true meaning of “ God’s ways.” Ole down in the 
fishing village, and walking in the ways of God ! From 
sheer curiosity he forgot that he was a member of the 
moral police force, and blurted out, just like any other 
school-boy, “I don’t understand what you mean, Ole; 
walking in the ways of God, did you say ?” 

Ole noticed the change at once ; those wild-looking 
eyes were friendly again, but still had that strange light 
which indeed never left them. Edward Kallehi was the 
one of all his school-fellows whom Ole secretly admired 
the most. The peasant boy suffered much from the 
town boys’ superior brightness and sharpness, and both 
these qualities were very much to the fore in Edward 
Kallem. And besides, there was as it were a halo round 
his head — he was his brown-haired sister’s brother. 

He had one unbearable fault, he was a fearful tease. 
He often got a beating for it from the master or his 
father, or his companions, but a moment after he would 
begin again. This sort of courage was beyond the peas- 
ant boy’s comprehension. Therefore a friendly word 


SCHOOL- DA YS. 


17 


or smile from Edward had a greater effect than it was 
really worth ; it had about it a sunny glow of gracious 
condescension. This coaxing, kindly questioning, com- 
ing from the bird of prey (though its beak only was vis- 
ible), together with the bright, shining eyes, made Ole 
give in. As soon as Edward changed his tactics and 
asked innocently to be allowed to look at the box he 
gave it up, and felt so safe and at his ease that he dried 
his eyes with his big gloves, took off the one glove and 
blew his nose, then remembering that someone had 
given him a checked pocket-handkerchief for that pur- 
pose, he looked for it in his pockets but could not find it. 

Edward had unfastened the lid of the box ; before he 
raised it he looked up, saying, “May I ?” 

“ Yes, you may.” 

Edward put the lid on one side and took off a hand- 
kerchief, under which lay a large book ; it was a Bible. 
He felt rather small, almost awed. Underneath the 
Bible lay several unbound books ; he took up a few of 
them, turned them over and put them back again ; they 
were religious tracts. He laid down the Bible again 
carefully, just as he had found it, spread the handker- 
chief over it, and shut the lid. In reality lie was not a 
bit wiser than before, but he was more curious. 

“You surely don’t read the Bible to the people down 
there ? ” asked he. 

Ole Tuft blushed. “Yes, I do, sometimes, and 
then ” 

“ Who do you read to ? ” 

“ Oh, to the sick, but it is not often I can get so 
far.” 

“ Do you go and visit the sick ? ” 

“Yes, it is just the sick I do visit.” 

“ The sick ? What can you do for them ? ” 

“Oh, I help them as well as I can.” 

“You ?” repeated Edward, with all the astonishment 
he was capable of. After a pause he went on. “ But 
how do you help them ? Do you take food to them ? ” 

“ Sometimes I do. I help them whenever they need 
it ; I change the straw under them.” 

“ Change the straw ?” 

“Why, yes, they lie upon straw, and then, don’t you 
see, they would lie on there, no matter how dirty it got, 
2 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


18 

for they are ill and cannot help themselves, and often in 
the daytime they are left quite alone when every one is 
out at work and the children are at school. So when I 
come in the afternoon, I go first to the boats just in 
from along the coast with straw, and there I buy what I 
need and carry it up and then take away the old 
straw.” 

“ But, my dear fellow, have you got money to buy it 
with ? ” asked Edward. 

“ My aunt collects money for me, and so does Joseph- 
ine too.” 

“Josephine!” exclaimed the brother. 

“ Yes ; oh, but perhaps I ought not to have told.” 

“Who does Josephine get money from?” asked 
Edward, with all an elder brother’s aroused curiosity. 

Ole bethought himself a moment, then answered 
decidedly and clearly : “From your father.” 

“ From father ? ” 

Edward knew quite well that even though it were 
Josephine who asked their father for money, he would 
never give it for any useless purpose ; he always liked 
to know what it was wanted for. Therefore his father 
must approve of what Ole did, and that took away all 
doubt from Edward’s mind. Ole could feel how en- 
tirely he changed his view of the matter ; he could see 
it, too, in his eyes. He longed to tell him more about it 
all, and he did so. He explained how, often when he 
went there, there was hard work for him to do ; he was 
obliged to light the fire and cook for them. 

“ Can you cook ? ” 

“Of course I can, and clean up too, and buy all that 
is needed, and send a messenger rowing across to the 
apothecary ; for the doctor may have written a prescrip- 
tion, but no one ever thinks of sending it over.” 

“ And have you time to do all this? ” 

“Directly after dinner I finish work at the Schultzes, 
and I learn my own lessons at night.” 

And he talked on, telling all there was to tell, until 
he, too, remembered that they ought to get down from 
the mountain before dark. 

Edward walked on in front, deep in thought ; the 
other followed after with his box. 

There, on the slope of the hill, they could hear the 


SCHOOL-DA YS. 


19 


roaring of the waves as if in the air ; it was like the 
low murmur of a distant crowd, but high above their 
heads. They felt it getting very cold ; the moon was 
up, but no stars were to be seen ; yes, one solitary one 
peeped forth. 

“ And what made you think of doing this ? ” asked Ed- 
ward, turning round. 

Ole stood still too. He moved his box backward 
and forward from one hand to the other; should he 
make a bold venture and tell all ? 

Edward understood at once that he had not heard 
everything, and that what remained to be told was the 
most important part of all. 

“ Can’t you tell me ? ” he asked, as though it was quite 
immaterial. 

“Yes, I think I can but he kept on changing his 
box from hand to hand without saying a word. 

Then Edward became impatient and began trying to 
persuade him, to which Ole had no objections, but still 
he hesitated. 

“Surely it is nothing wicked ?” 

“ No, it is not wicked.” And he added, after a pause, 
“ It is rather something grand, very grand and great.” 

“ Really something great ?” 

“In reality the grandest thing in all the world.” 

“ But what can you mean ? ” 

“ Well, then, if only you will not tell, not to a living 
soul — do you hear?— I might tell you.” 

“What is it, Ole?” 

“ I am going to be a missionary.” 

“ A missionary ? ” 

“ Yes, a missionary among the heathen, the regular 
savages, don’t you know, those who eat people.” He 
saw that Edward was almost speechless ; so he made 
haste to tell him all sorts of things about cyclones, 
raging wild beasts, and poisonous snakes. “You see 
one requires to be prepared for such things.” 

“ How prepared — for raging wild beasts and poi- 
sonous snakes ? ” Edward began to think everything 
possible. 

“ The people are the worst,” said Ole, who had to give 
in about the wild beasts; “they are such dreadful 
heathens, and cruel and ugly and wicked into the bar- 


20 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


gain.- So it will not be so easy to manage them. One 
must have practice.” 

“ But how can you get practice in that sort of thing 
here ? They are not heathens down in the fishing vil- 
lage ? ” 

“ No, but they can teach one how to bear a little of 
everything ; there is no use complaining down there, 
but just be ready to do all sorts of hard work. They 
are often so suspicious when they are ill and fretful, and 
some of them are downright brutes. Just fancy, one 
evening one of them was going to. hit me.” 

“ Hit you f ” 

“ I prayed to God that she would, but she only cursed 
and swore.” Ole’s eyes glistened, his whole face was 
beaming. “In one of the tracts I have in my box it says 
that that is the mistake of our missionaries, they go out 
to their work without having any practice or experience. 
And it says, too, that the art of winning people is a very 
difficult one, but hardest of all it is to win them for the 
kingdom of God, and that we ought to strive to do it 
from our childhood upward ; that is what the book says, 
and I mean to do it. For to be a missionary is higher 
and greater than anything upon earth ; greater than 
to be king, greater than to be emperor or pope. That is 
all in the tract, and this, too, that a missionary said : ‘If 
I had ten lives, I would give them all to the mission.' 
And I mean to do the same.” 

They were walking side by side ; unconsciously Ole 
had turned to the stars as they began to twinkle, and 
they both stood still awhile gazing into space. Be- 
neath them lay the harbour with its dimly outlined ships, 
the silent, empty wharfs, and the scattered lights from 
the town ; beyond was the shore, gray with snow and 
the dark sea- waves rolling up ; they could hear the 
sound again, faintly in the distance, the monotony of 
the roar seemed in keeping with the star-spangled twi- 
light. An invisible wave of sympathy passed between 
the lads, and seemed to link them together. There was 
no one Ole was so anxious should think well of him 
as his friend here with his jaunty fur cap ; while Ed- 
ward was thinking all the time how much better Ole 
was than he ; for he knew quite well that he was far 
from good, and indeed he was told Of it every day. He 


SCHOOL-DA YS. 


21 


glanced sideways at the peasant boy. The peaked cap 
was pulled down over his ears, the big gloves, the thick 
scarf, the coarse cloth jacket, and trousers hanging 
loosely on him; the heavy, iron-bound boots — a curious 
figure — but his eyes alone made up for it all. And then 
the innocent, trusting expression, though it was rather 
an old-fashioned face. . . . Ole would decidedly be 

a great man some day. 

They trotted on again, Edward in front, Ole after him, 
down toward the “ hill-town,” as that part was called 
which lay nearest the hill-side, and which consisted 
chiefly of workmen’s houses, a few workshops, and some 
smaller factories. As yet the streets were neither prop- 
erly paved nor lighted, and now the muddy snow was 
stiffening into ice as night came on. The lanterns, few 
and far between, hung in the middle of the streets, on 
ropes stretched across from opposite houses ; they were 
made to be hoisted up and down. They had been badly 
cleaned and burned dimly. Here and there one of the 
small workshops had its own private lantern, which was 
hung up outside on the steps. Edward stopped again 
under one of these ; he felt he must ask more questions. 
He wanted to know more particularly who it was Ole 
went to see among the fisher people — whether it was 
anyone they both knew. 

Ole boldly put down his box on the steps, and stood 
there resting his hand on it ; he smiled. “Do you know 
Martha from the docks ? ” The whole town knew her ; 
she was a clever woman, but much given to drink, and 
on Saturday evenings the school-boys always had great 
fun with her, when she stood leaning up against a wall, 
abusing them roundly with gestures not of the most re- 
fined, in fact, quite unmentionable. This, however, was 
just what the boys were waiting for, and was invariably 
received with shouts of delight. 

“What! Dock Martha?” shrieked Edward. “Do 
you suppose you can convert her ? ” 

“ Hush ! hush ! For goodness’ sake, not so loud,” 
implored Ole, reddening and looking anxiously round. 

Edward repeated, in a whisper : “ Do you think anyone 
could ever convert Martha?” 

“ I believe I am on the high road to do so,” whispered 
the other, mysteriously. 


22 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


“ Come, you won’t get me to believe that,” and he 
smiled with squinting eyes. 

“Just you wait and hear. You know she fell on the 
ice this winter and was badly hurt?” 

“Yes, I know that.” 

“Weil, she is still laid up, and now everyone is tired 
of helping her, for she is so cross and so wicked. At 
first she was very disagreeable to me ; I could hardly 
bear it ; but I took no notice, and now it is nothing 
but, ‘ my little angel,’ and ‘ my lamb,’ and ‘ my pigeon,’ 
and ‘ dear child;’ for I have taken care of her, and got 
clothes and food for her, and bedclothes too, and have 
done much for her that was not at all pleasant ; that I 
have. And yet it was she who wanted to beat me the 
other evening. I was going to help her up, and some- 
how she managed to hurt her bad foot. She shrieked 
with pain and lifted her stick, but then she thought bet- 
ter of it, and began to curse and abuse me dreadfully. 
Now we are good friends again, and the other day I 
ventured to read the Bible to her.” 

“ What ! to Martha ? ” 

“Yes, the Sermon on the Mount, and she cried, lad.” 

“She cried ? Then did she understand it?” 

“No, for she cried so that she could not have heard 
much of it. But I don’t think she cried on account of 
what was in the Bible, for she began as soon as ever I 
took it out.” 

The two boys stood looking at each other ; a noise of 
hammering was heard over from the backyard, and in the 
far distance a steam-whistle ; then the faint cry of a 
child from across the street. 

“ Did she say anything ? ” 

“ She said she felt much too miserable to listen to 
anything. So I explained that it was just the most 
wretched and miserable whom God wanted. But she 
seemed not to hear that at all. She only begged me to 
go away, and to go round and see if Lars the washer- 
man had come home.” 

“ Lars the washerman ! ” cried Edward so loud that 
again Ole had to check him ; Lars was the woman’s 
sweetheart. 

“ Yes, just fancy his being fond of that creature. But 
they all say there is a great deal of good in Lars. He 


SCHOOL-DA VS. 


2 3 


goes there every evening to see what he can do for her. 
This evening he came earlier than usual, so I got away ; 
but generally I stay there much longer.” 

“ Have you read to her more than once?” 

“Yes, to-day I did. She began to cry at once, but I 
do think she heard me to-day ; for I read about the 
Prodigal Son, and she said : ‘ I expect I am one of his 
swine.’ ” Both the lads laughed. “Then I spoke to her 
and said I could not believe that, and that I would try 
and pray. ‘ Oh,’ said she, ‘ there’s not much use in 
that;’ but when I began to say ‘Our Father,’ she be- 
came perfectly crazy, just as though she were frightened, 
and sat up in bed crying out that she would not hear 
another word, not for anything. Then she lay down 
again and sobbed most bitterly.” 

“ So you never said your prayer after all ?” 

“ No, for then Lars came in, and she told me to go. 
But you see, it did some good. Don’t you think I am 
on the right way ? ” 

Edward was not sure about it. It was clear that his 
admiration had received a blow. Soon after they sepa- 
rated. 


II. 

Sometimes in the higher class of schools there reigns 
a spirit utterly opposed to that prevalent in the town 
where the school is ; and it is even a rule that in certain 
matters the school exists under its own independent in- 
fluence. One single master can often keep the pupils 
to his own way of thinking, just as it may depend on 
one or several of the boys whether there is a chivalrous 
spirit among them or the opposite, a spirit of obedience 
or one of rebellion ; as a rule there is one who leads 
them all. It is the same, too, as regards morality ; the 
boys become what they are according to the example 
set before them, and oftenest it is one or more of them- 
selves who have the power to set this example. 

Just at this time it was Anders Hegge, the dux of the 
school, who took the lead in everything. He was the 
cleverest and best-read boy the school had seen since 
its foundation ; he was to stay there a year longer than 


24 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


was necessary, so as to lend to the school the glory of a 
certain double first. The other boys were tremendously 
proud of him ; they told admiring tales of how he had 
been known to catch the masters at fault, that he could 
choose what lessons he liked, and could come and go 
whenever he pleased ; he did his lessons, too, mostly 
alone. He had a library, the shelves of which had long 
since covered the walls and now stood out upon the 
floor ; there was one long shelf on each side of the sofa ; 
it was so much talked about that the smaller boys were 
allowed to go up and look at it all. And there, in the 
middle, in front of the window, sat he smoking, in a long 
loose dressing-gown, a present from a married sister, a 
velvet cap with gold tassel, a present from an aunt (his 
mother’s sister), and embroidered slippers, from another 
aunt (his father’s sister). He was quite a ladies* man, 
lived with his mother, who was a widow, and five elderly 
female relatives paid for his books and his clothes, and 
gave him pocket-money. 

He was a tall, stout fellow, with marked, regular 
features, showing descent from a good old family ; the 
face would have been good-looking enough, but his eyes 
were too prominent and had something at once greedy 
and inquiring about them. It was the same with his well- 
made figure ; the effect would have been good but that 
he stooped so much, just as if his back were too heavy 
for him, and his walk was uneven. His hands and feet 
were neat, he was dainty and particular, and his tastes 
in general were effeminate. 

He never forgot anything that had once been told 
him, important or not it made no difference ; except, 
perhaps, he considered the trifling things of most im- 
portance. Few things escaped him ; he had a quiet 
way of gaining the confidence of others, it was quite an 
art. He knew the history of all the great families in 
the whole country and in foreign countries as well ; his 
greatest delight in life was to repeat these stories, espe- 
cially when they were scandalous ones, and to sit listen- 
ing greedily for new ones. If the masters had only 
known how the air of the school was infected and cor- 
rupted by this much-admired piece of goods, with the 
contents of its secret drawers, they would hardly have 
kept him there another year ; the whole school was 


SCITOOL-DA YS. 


2 S 

critical and doubting, full of slander and mean efforts to 
curry favor, and infected by slanderous stories. 

Ever eager for news, he was always to be found in his 
smoking-gear, sitting among his books, and was there, 
too, when Edward came in that evening to tell him that 
he knew now where Ole went to and what he did with 
himself ; so now he expected to get the reward ! Anders 
got up and begged him to wait till he fetched some beer 
that they might enjoy themselves together. 

The first glass was most delicious, a second little half 
glass equally so, but not till then did Edward tell his 
news — how Ole went to nurse the sick down in the fish- 
ing village. 

Anders felt almost as small as Edward had done when 
he saw Ole’s Bible in his box ; Edward laughed heartily 
at him. But very soon Anders began to insinuate 
doubts ; he suggested that Ole had invented all that so 
as to screen himself ; there must be something more 
under it all ; peasant boys, he said, were always so cun- 
ning, and to prove it he began telling some rather good 
stories from school. Edward did not at all relish this 
everlasting doubting, and to cut the matter short (for 
he was very tired) he informed the other that his father 
knew and approved of it, and even helped Ole with 
money. Of course when he heard that, Anders could 
doubt no longer; and yet there might be more under 
it, peasant boys were so very sly. 

But this was too much for Edward ; he started up 
from his seat and asked if he thought any of them told 
lies ? 

Anders sipped his beer quite calmly, rolling his prom- 
inent eyes cautiously around. “Lie” was a strange 
word to use ; might he be allowed to ask who were the 
sick people Ole went to see ? 

Edward was not prepared for this ; he had intended 
to tell as much as would justify his getting the reward, 
but not a word more. He got up from his seat again. 
If Anders wouldn’t believe him, he might leave it alone, 
but he meant to have the reward. 

Now it was not Anders Hegge’s way to quarrel with 
anyone, and Edward knew that well. Of course he 
would give Edward the book, but first he must just lis- 
ten to such a funny story about the sick people down in 


26 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


the fishing village. The parish doctor and his wife had 
been to see his mother yesterday, and someone had 
asked after Martha from the docks, who had not been 
seen for so long, whether she was still laid up from 
her fall in the winter ? Yes, she was still laid up, but 
she was not in any want, for, strange to say, people* sent 
her all she needed, and Lars brought in brandy to her 
every evening, and they had many a merry carouse to- 
gether. She would probably not be up again for some 
time to come. 

Edward got very red, and Anders noticed it directly ; 
he suggested that perhaps Martha was one of those 
whom Ole visited. 

Yes she was. 

His prominent eyes widened at this piece of news. 
Edward saw with what eagerness he gulped it down and 
it made him feel as if he had been devoured and swal- 
lowed up himself. But if there is a thing that school- 
boys cannot stand it is to be thought too confiding and 
innocent ; he hastened to free himself from the most in- 
sulting insinuation that he was not able to see through 
Ole Tuft and his stupid ways ; only fancy, he actually 
read the Bible to Martha ! 

He read the Bible to her? Again those prominent 
eyes opened and greedily drank it in, but he closed 
them at once, and was seized with laughter ; he regu- 
larly shouted with laughter — and Edward with him. 

Yes, he read the Bible to Martha, he read to her about 
the Prodigal Son, and then Edward repeated all that 
Martha had said. They laughed in chorus and drank 
up the rest of the beer. All that was pleasant and 
amusing in Anders showed itself when he laughed, 
although his laugh had a grating sound down in 
the throat; still it incited one to more fun, more mis- 
chief. So Edward had to tell all, and a little more 
than all. 

As he ran home later with the grand book under 
his arm, he had a kind of disgusted feeling. The ef- 
fects of the beer were over, he was no longer tempted 
to laugh, and his wounded pride was satisfied ; but 
Ole’s trusting eyes seemed to meet him everywhere, as 
soon as he got out in the air. He tried to put it from 
him, he was so dreadfully tired ; he would think no 


SCHOOL-DA YS. 


2 7 


more about it this evening ; but to-morrow — to-morrow 
he would ask Anders not to speak about it. 

But the next morning he overslept himself. He hur- 
ried on his clothes and rushed off, eating his bread-and- 
butter as he went along, and giving a rapid thought to 
“ Les trois Mousquetaires,” now his precious property ; 
he longed for the afternoon to be able to read it. In 
school he stumbled through his lessons one by one, for 
he had learned nothing, and on Saturdays there was al- 
ways so much. He worked on until two hours before the 
school closed ; there was still to be French and Natural 
History, but to neither of these classes did he belong — 
so away he flew downstairs before any of the others. 

Just as he stood outside the school gates he saw 
Anders coming from the opposite side ; he was going 
now to take his lesson in the upper class. Edward 
thought at once of the preceding day, and he felt anx- 
ious as to what Anders might take it into his head to 
tell ; but at that very moment he caught sight of a 
monster steamer, a wreck, coming slowly in between 
the two piers, and all the people running by said there 
had never been so large a ship in the harbour before. 
She dragged along, hardly able to move, her masts gone, 
bulwarks all damaged, and the propped-up funnel all 
white with salt water up to the very top ; was that an- 
other steamer towing her ? Edward could not make 
out for the pier. Everyone was running that way ; he 
ran too ! 

Meanwhile Anders turned in at the school gate. Just 
as he opened it a class was over, and all the boys rushed 
down the stairs as through a long funnel, and out 
into the yard ; it was a storm in a wizard’s belly, the 
very house shook ; first came one short, sharp yell, the 
first-comer’s shout of delight ; then a screaming of min- 
gled voices high and low, some cracked and breaking 
ones toning down the whole ; then a mighty shout from 
all together like a sea of fire shooting up to the sky, 
then half quenched on one side, but flaring up again on 
the other, then uniting in a broad glow over the whole 
yard. 

Anders whistled softly as he came along ; it was not 
like being in a sea of fire ; it was like sailing through 
dangerous rocks and reefs, tossed about and dashed 


28 


IN. GOD'S IV AY. 


from one side, and tossed and dashed back again to the 
other ; but he had an object in view ; he would try 
cautiously to reach the stack of wood over by the 
neighbour’s paling ; there all was quiet, and he could 
partially screen his body up among the wood. 

When he had reached this point of vantage and had 
looked cautiously round to see if it was safe, he gazed 
down on the crowd with delight ; he felt a pleasurable 
satisfaction in knowing that he could quiet this uproar 
just with three or four words which he would whisper 
in the ear of his nearest neighbour. They would act like 
oil upon a raging sea, and the noise would cease as 
those few words were spread about. 

Where was Ole ? There he was, he and a big boy to- 
gether ; they had hold of each other by the collar and 
were tumbling about ; the bigger of the two was try- 
ing to knock down the other, using his feet freely for 
many a kick. Ole’s heavy boots swung round, the iron 
heels shining in the air ; he shouted with laughter as his 
companion grew fiercer and wilder, but could not get 
him down. 

Then Anders bent his head down to the boy who 
stood nearest him : 

“ Now I know what Ole Tuft does in the evenings ! ” 

“ Oh, rubbish ! ” 

“ But I do know.” 

“ Who found it out ? ” 

“Edward Kallem.” 

“ Edward Kallem ? And has he got the book ? ” 
asked the other, hurriedly. 

“ Of course he has.” 

“ No, really ? So Edward Kallem has ! ” 

“Edward Kallem? What about him?” put in a third, 
and the one who had just heard the news repeated the 
story. A fourth boy, a fifth, a sixth, all rushed away, 
crying out : “ Edward Kallem has won the prize, lads ! 
Anders Hegge knows what Ole Tuft does in the even- 
ings.” Wherever they went the noise stopped instan- 
taneously ; all of them wanted to hear the news, and 
rushed across to Anders Hegge. 

Hardly had a fourth part of them reached him before 
the remaining three-fourths, losing interest in their 
games, followed suit. What in all the world was the 


SCHOOL- DA YS. 


29 


matter over by the wood-stack ? why were they all run- 
ning there ? They crowded round Anders, and climbed 
up on the wood as many of them as could find room. 
“What’s the matter?” “Edward Kallem has won the 
prize.” “Edward Kallem?” And the noise began 
again, everyone asking, everyone answering — all except 
Ole Tuft, who remained standing just where his com- 
panion had left him. 

There was a dead silence as Anders Hegge told the 
story ; and he had a right to tell it, for he had paid for 
it. He told it well, in a short, dry sort of way that gave 
an air of double meaning to everything ; he told them 
first where Ole went to and what he did ; how he 
changed the straw in Martha’s bed, moved and lifted 
her, cooked for her, and fetched medicine for her from 
the apothecary. Then he told them why Ole did all this; 
he wished to be a missionary, and was practising for it 
down at Martha’s ; he read the Bible to her and made 
her cry ; then, as soon as Ole had gone, Lars, the wash- 
erman, came in with the brandy bottle, and he and Mar- 
tha had a grand carouse together on the top of the Bible 
reading. 

At first the boys stood as quiet as mice ; they had 
never heard the like before. They looked upon it as 
a sort of game, and from the wav it had been told it 
could hardly be understood otherwise ; but never before 
had they heard of anyone playing at being missionary 
and Bible-reader ; it was funny, but it was something 
else besides — something they could not quite make out. 
As nobody laughed, Anders continued. And what made 
Ole do all this ? Because he was ambitious and wanted 
to become an apostle, which was more than to be either 
king, emperor, or pope ; Ole had told Edward Kallem 
that himself. But, in order to become an apostle, he 
had to find out “ God’s ways,” and those ways began 
down at Martha’s ; there he meant to learn how to work 
miracles, to wrestle with the heathen and the wild beasts 
and poisonous snakes, and to calm a cyclone.* Then 
there was a roar. But just at that moment the school- 
bell rang, and, shouting with laughter, the boys had only 
time to run past Ole back to their lessons again. 

Once before in his young life had Ole Tuft gazed 
down into a bottomless abyss. It was on a winter’s day, 


30 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


as he stood by his father’s grave and heard the dull 
sound of the frozen earth falling upon the coffin ; the 
air was thick with driving mist, and the sea was black 
as pitch. Whenever he was in trouble his thoughts flew 
back to that day ; and now it seemed as if he were 
standing there again, and heard the mournful church 
bells toll. Just as the noise on the stairs and along 
the passages had ceased, the last stray loiterer gone in, 
the last door been shut — complete quiet suddenly — 
then, through this empty silence, he heard a bell, ding- 
dong, and in fancy saw himself at the little pine-wood 
church by the shore. How they creaked and rustled in 
the wind, those long-armed, leafless birches by the wall, 
and the ancient fir-tree at the gate ; the clanging of the 
bells, harsh and shrill, floating in the air, and the dull 
thud of the earth on the coffin, made a life-long impres- 
sion on him ; and his mother’s ceaseless weeping — she 
had kept it all back until now, had made no sound, 
neither by the sick man’s bedside, nor even when he 
was carried away in his coffin ; but now, suddenly, the 
tears gushed forth — ah, so bitterly. . . . O father, 

mother ! Mother, father! And he, too, burst into 
tears. 

This was sufficient reason for his not following the 
other boys in ; he would never go back to school again. 
He could not face any of them after what had happened, 
he would have to leave the town ; in a couple of hours 
it would be known everywhere, they would all be ask- 
ing questions, and staring and laughing at him. And 
now, too, all his hopes and intentions for the future had 
been profaned ; what was the use of studying any more ; 
nor would he go to any other town, only home, home, 
home. 

But if he stood there much longer one of them would 
be sent down to fetch him ; he ought to get away at 
once. But not home to his aunt, or he would have to 
tell her everything ; and not out by the big gates and 
down the principal street, for there were so many peo- 
ple who would see how he was crying. No, he must 
make his way to the little hiding-place that Josephine 
had made for him, and through which she helped him 
out every afternoon* so that the other boys might not 
see him. 


SCHOOL- DA YS. 


31 


The wood-stacks stood next to the neighbour’s paling ; 
but to the right leaned up against a shed into which 
Ole went. He loosened two boards in the wall nearest 
the wood-stack, crept through, and closed them behind 
him. This performance could not have been carried 
out if there had not been on the other side an open 
space, made by an impediment of nature, in the shape 
of a large stone, taller than the boy, but which stood at 
a little distance from the wall. If the stone had not 
been there, the two stacks of wood would have touched 
each other and barred the way ; but as it was, there 
was plenty of room at both ends of the stone as well 
as on the top of it. The children had made them- 
selves little rooms here, one on each side of the 
stone. The most comfortable one was at the back ; 
there they had a board to sit on, and when that was 
fastened at both ends in the stacks, they could pass 
each other in crossing it. They had laid some planks 
overhead, and then wood on the top of that, so that no- 
body might suspect anything ; it had been quite a piece 
of work for the children. It was not very light, cer- 
tainly, but then that made it all the cosier. Here she 
would tell him tales of Spain, and he would tell her of 
missionaries’ adventures ; she told of bull-fights, but he of 
fights with tigers, lions, and snakes, of terrible cyclones 
and water-spouts, of savage monkeys and man-eaters. 
And by degrees his stories had eclipsed hers ; they were 
more exciting, and then there was an object in them ; 
she had only her recollections to look back to, but he 
threw himself heart and soul into all his imagination 
could scrape together. He drew such vivid, glowing 
pictures, till at last she was fascinated too ! At first 
she felt her way with a few cautious questions as to 
whether women could be missionaries too ? But he did 
not know ; he thought it was only work for men, though 
they might possibly be allowed to be missionaries’ wives. 
Then she asked if missionaries ever married. He, tak- 
ing it up as a dogmatic question, answered that he had 
once heard his father speak on the subject ; it was at a 
meeting when someone had had doubts as to this mis- 
sionary-marriage question, for St. Paul was the first 
missionary, and the greatest, too, and he certainly had 
not been married, and even gloried in that fact ; but his 


3 2 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


father had replied that St. Paul believed that Christ 
was so soon to come again so he had to hurry as quickly 
as possible from place to place to tell that to the people 
so that they might be in readiness. But nowadays mis- 
sionaries always lived in the same place, and therefore 
might be allowed to marry. He had even read about 
missionaries’ wives who kept schools for the little black 
children. They had not advanced further than that, 
but it was easy to see she often thought about it by the 
questions she asked : If it were true that black children 
ate snails ? She did not like the idea of that at all. 

In this dim light, with their two heads, brown and 
fair, bent close together over their tales of adventures, 
they had in fancy sat under palm-trees amid swarms of 
black children, all so good and clean and converted, 
and there were tame tiger-cubs playing on the' sand at 
their feet ; friendly, good-natured monkeys waited upon 
them, elephants conveyed them carefully about, and all 
the food they needed hung in plenty on the trees. 

And now Ole came for the last time to say farewell to 
this little Paradise. 

Just as he raised himself to climb over the stone, he 
remembered that it was Saturday, and her lessons were 
always over on Saturdays by eleven o’clock (she took 
private lessons), and that she often used to sit behind the 
stacks during the boys’ free quarter-hour. Suppose 
she were sitting there, and had heard all? Up he 
clambered onto the stone in greatest haste, and there 
she sat, down on the board, and looked at him ! At the 
sight of her and as their eyes met he began sobbing 
again. “I want to . . . go . . . home,” stam- 
mered he, “and never . . . never come back again,” 

and he came sliding down to her. She received him with 
open arms and hastened to give him her pocket-hand- 
kerchief to stuff into his mouth that his crying might 
not be heard. She had a good deal of knowledge as to 
school and play-ground ways, and knew that some one 
would soon be sent to look for him. He gave in, as he 
always did, to her superior guidance in matters of good 
behaviour and manners ; he thought she was reminding 
him of that everlasting use of the pocket-handkerchief, so 
he began alternately to blow his nose and to cry. She 
seized hold of the back of his neck with one of her 


SCHOOL- DA YS. 


33 


small but coarse girl’s hands, with the other she grasped 
his hands with the handkerchief and forced it right into 
his mouth, at the same time shaking her dark-haired 
head warningly in his face. Then it dawned upon him ! 
And it was high time too ; for he heard his name called 
down in the yard, again and again on all sides. His 
whole body shook and trembled with his efforts to 
stifle his sobs ; but he kept them down bravely, waiting 
till the boy who had been sent down to look for him had 
gone rushing back again. He began anew : “ I . . . 

want to . . . go . . . home,” and a fresh burst 

of tears followed, he couldn’t help it. So he gave her 
back her pocket-handkerchief with a nod and got up to 
pull away the wood in front of the hole in the neigh- 
bour’s fence, sobbing bitterly all the time and half- 
alarmed at his own grief. Hardly had he pulled the 
wood aside before he disappeared into the hole ; the 
seat of his trousers, polished and shiny from daily con- 
tact with the school benches, and the iron heels of his 
boots crept farther and farther in, till at last they van- 
ished ; he stood upright on the other side, pushed him- 
self between the paling and the shed, and on past some 
old wood-work which lay there rotting, from there he 
sprang across to the back door, and not until he stood 
outside on free ground in a narrow road, did he remem- 
ber that he had forgotten to say good-bye to Josephine 
and had never even thanked her! This addition to all 
his other troubles made him turn and flee from the 
town, and he never stopped before he, by roundabout 
ways, had reached the high road. It was almost as if it 
were his property, this well-known road by the shore. 

Josephine stood still a moment gazing after the van- 
ishing heels ; but she did not wait long. She hopped 
upon the stone and slid down to the wall, pushed the 
boards aside, crept through and closed them again care- 
fully behind her. Soon after she was seen at the apothe- 
cary’s without her hat; she asked after her brother, 
first down in the shop where she knew he liked to be, 
but he was not there and he had not been in either to 
leave his bundle of books. Upstairs she went through 
all the rooms, but he was not there ; then looking out 
of the window she saw the great foreign steamer and 
tenor twelve small boats around it ; of course he would 


3 


34 


IN GOD'S W AY. 


be there ! Away she flew to the pier, unfastened their 
own little white-painted boat and pushed off. 

She rowed until the perspiration streamed down her 
face, rowed and looked about her until she reached the 
wreck, the great green monster lying there groaning 
under the pumps. From afar she could see Edward up 
on the captain’s bridge, with his books under his arm, 
talking to his friend Mo, the pilot. 

As soon as she was within call she shouted his name ; 
he heard her, he and all the others ; they saw a brown- 
haired girl, without hat, red and heated with rowing, 
standing up in the boat, leaning on her oars, and staring 
up at the captain’s bridge ; they did not think much of 
it, though, and forgot her quickly. But Edward felt a 
sharp pang; something out of the common must have 
happened, and it did not take him long to get down 
from the captain’s bridge on to the deck, across the 
deck and down the steamer’s side, climbing over the 
other boats and up into hers, exclaiming, as he pushed 
off : “ What’s the matter ? ” He put his books down in 
the bottom of the boat, took the oars from her and sat 
down repeating : “ What’s the matter ? ” 

With streaming hair, breathless and red she stood 
and looked at him as he turned the boat ; then she 
moved back to a farther bench. Here she unfastened 
the other pair of oars and sat down behind him. He 
did not like to question her a third time so he rowed on 
silently — and then, keeping her oars on the surface of 
the water meanwhile, she began : 

“ What have you done to Ole Tuft ? ” 

He turned pale, then red ; he too stopped rowing. 

“ It’s all up with him now at school ; he has gone 
home, and he’ll never come back any more.” 

“Oh, that’s a lie!” — but his voice failed him, he felt 
she was speaking the truth. He plunged the oars into 
the water with all his strength and rowed with might 
and main. 

“Indeed you had better row hard,” though she her- 
self began backing her oars ; “you had better hurry 
after him even if you have to walk all the way to Store 
Tuft ; if you don’t, it will be a bad look-out for you 
both at school and at home with father. What a mean 
wretch you are ! ” 


SCHOOL- DA VS. 


35 


“Oh, you hold your tongue !” 

“No, I shan’t ! and if you don’t go after him at once 
and bring him home with you again, I’ll tell father, and 
the head master too, I will ! ” 

“ It’s you who are the mean wretch with all your 
gossiping and story-telling.” 

“You should have heard how Anders Hegge went on, 
and the whole school, and how they laughed at Oie, 
every one of them ; and he poor fellow, he cried as if 
his heart would break, and then ran right away home. 
Oh, fie ! fie ! For shame ! If you don’t bring him back 
with you it will be bad for you.” 

“You stupid ! Don’t you see I am rowing as hard as 
I can ? ” 

His finger-nails were quite white and his face stream- 
ing and he bent double each time to take a longer puli 
at the oars. Without another word she moved over to 
the bench nearest him and rowed with all her might. 

As he stood up when they were nearing the pier and 
stretched out his hand to prevent the boat bumping 
against it, he said : “ I have had no lunch to-day, and 
now I shall get no dinner either ; have you any money 
with you that I might buy myself some biscuits ?” 

“Yes, a few pence I have she laid down her oars 
and looked in her pocket for the money. 

“You take my books!” shouted he as he rushed up 
the street. Shortly after he too was out on the high 
road. 


III. 

The day had been dull, the air thick, and the clouds 
were driving along against a light southerly wind ; it 
was mild, though, and had begun to thaw again ; the 
roads were in a fearful state with snow slush and mud, 
especially close by the town where it had been trampled 
and trodden into a perfect morass. 

Edward had not been walking more than ten minutes 
before his somewhat thin boots were wet through. 
Well, that did not matter, what was much worse was 
that he had finished his last biscuit and Avas by no 
means satisfied — not by a long way ! However, even that 


3 6 


IN GOD'S W AY. 


did not matter as he would soon overtake Ole, he walked 
so much quicker and lighter than he did, and then he 
was hurrying tremendously. As soon as he reached 
him he would put things right again ; not for an in- 
stant did he doubt that. Ole was very easily managed 
and he, Edward, would make all square with the other 
boys, it was the least he could do ; he would enjoy it, 
too ; he would get others to join him and they would 
have a fight. 

But after he had walked a quarter of a mile * without 
seeing any traces of Ole’s boots in the mud and no sign 
of himself either, and particularly after he had dragged 
on for another quarter along the most dreadful roads, 
his feet dripping wet, now perspiring, now cold, then 
half-dry, then wet again — it was threatening rain and the 
wind was getting up, and all nature seemed so uncom- 
fortably lonely along the stony ridges with dark woods 
between each valley — then indeed his courage fell con- 
siderably. 

And it seemed so strange, too, that after the first 
quarter of a mile he never met a soul. There were 
plenty of footmarks on the road both of horses, people, 
and dogs ; they were all bent in the same direction as 
himself and most of them were quite fresh, but there 
was not a creature to be seen anywhere, not even in the 
farmyards, not a dog did he hear bark, nor did he see a 
chimney smoke ; all was deserted. He passed by one 
empty cove after the other ; they were divided by jutting 
out ridges of loose stones caused by landslips ; on each 
side of these ridges lay a cove, and in every cove one or 
more farmyards and a brook or stream, but no people. 
So many times had the boy now struggled up these stony 
hills and gone so far along that he could see across the 
next field without distinguishing Ole on the high road, 
in fact without seeing anyone, so he began to think that 
he would have to trudge on, hungry and tired as he was, 
the whole way to Store Tuft. It was nearly a mile dis- 
tant ; that would keep him away so long that his father 
would hear of his absence, and then it would be a case 
of scolding and lecturing, and probably of beating and 
swearing as well, and the head-master would very likely 
look in and then it would all begin over again. . . . 

* One Norwegian mile.=seven English miles. 


SCIIOOL-DA YS. 


37 


He could not help it, the tears would come. Confound 
Anders Hegge, with his greedy, fishy eyes and oily 
smile, his mocking laugh and sneaking friendliness, the 
story-teller, the brute ! Here was he now forced to tramp 
along with tingling feet in all the mud, tired and done 
up. This then was the meaning of his fearful fright the 
evening before, now all was explained. 

But, hang it all ! who would cry about that ? One 
must arrive some day at the journey’s end, and a beat- 
ing would be nothing new, tra-la-la ! And he broke 
into a Spanish ditty and sang verse upon verse till 
he became quite breathless and was obliged to slacken 
his pace, but taking fright when he no longer heard the 
sound of his own voice, he began afresh and kept on 
singing all the way through the long valley. 

He met nobody there either, only traces of cart-wheels 
and footmarks of old and young folk, of horses and 
dogs from the farms ; all bound in the same direction. 
What could be going on ? A fire ? An auction ? But 
then they would not have taken carts with them. Had 
there been a landslip anywhere ? Or was it a wreck 
from yesterday’s storm ? Well, it was all the same to 
him. Just as he was crossing over the next ridge which 
jutted out into the bay, he caught sight for the first 
time of Ole’s footsteps on the hid ; he could see that he 
had walked along by the side of the road ; he recog- 
nized the iron heels and the straps under each foot. 
The marks were quite fresh too, so Ole could not be 
far off. This was exciting, and he hurried on. 

Here there was a thick fir-wood, very still and quiet, 
and as he had to stop singing going up-hill it was 
rather uncanny. The farther he advanced into the 
wood the thicker it became ; the snow lay firmer on the 
ground, stones and small tufts of heather peeping up 
through it like animals ; and then there was a crack 
here and a rustle there and sometimes a cry ; a 
startled capercailzie flew up with great flapping of 
wings, and the boy in a terrible fright bent down to look 
for Ole’s foot-marks, just for company’s sake — the ter- 
ror of the day before was on him again. If he dared 
but begin to run, and if the wood would only come to 
an end ! In the painfully long silence that followed 
the capercailzie’s cry he felt that a very little more and 


33 


IN GOD'S W AY. 


he would go mad with fright. And this bit of road with 
high banks on each side, through which he would have 
to pass — he looked on ahead at the steep dark sides 
which seemed as if they would close over him ; terrible 
looking trees hung over the top peering down at him. 
When at last he arrived there, he felt as if he were the 
tiniest little ant in a wood ; if only all would keep still, 
or at least no one swoop down upon him and seize him 
by the neck, or drop down suddenly before him, or be- 
hind him, or begin to puff and blow at him. . . . He 

walked on with stiff eyes, like one walking in his sleep, 
the gnarled and crooked roots of the fir-trees stretched 
along the banks, they seemed as though alive, but he 
pretended not to notice them. High up in the air far 
in front of him a bird was winging its way toward the 
town he came from. Ah, if he might but mount fhat 
bird ! He could see the town distinctly and the ships 
in the harbour ; he could hear the cheery heave-a-hoy 
songs and the rattling of anchor chains, the rolling of 
barrels along the wharf, and the merry screams of laugh- 
ter and the shouts of command. . . . Yes, he could 

even hear those, and the whistle of a steamer ! and then 
another, a shrill one ! and voices ! Those were voices ! 
And neighing of horses, and barking of dogs ! And 
again the sound of voices, many voices. He had 
got through the road with the steep banks, for it had 
only been a short bit, and through the trees he could 
see the sea and boats. . . . But what was that ? Was 

he back in town again ? Had he been walking round 
and round ? No, surely he had followed the sea all the 
way. He began to run, he felt all right again. But 
had he really walked straight on ? Of course, here 
is the clearing in the wood, and there the bay, he knew 
it well, and the little islands, he remembered them too, 
it was the right way, and it was not so very far now to 
Store Tuft. . . . But what are all those boats doing 

there ? And what is the meaning of that steady buzzing 
noise? Herring fishing ! Hurrah ! herring fishing ! He 
had come right into the midst of a take of herrings, 
hurrah ! hurrah ! And away with hunger, fatigue, and 
fear, off flew the boy down the hill with mighty strides. 

One of the sweep-nets had been hauled in, one was 
out, one was just going to be put out, it was a great 


SCHOOL-DA VS. 


39 


takei But it was Saturday evening, and it was neces- 
sary to net the herrings before Sunday evening, and to 
gut the fish that was already taken. In the twinkling 
of an eye he understood it all. 

The shore was crowded with people, near the road 
and on the road, and up on the fields, crowds and 
crowds. And endless carts and sledges with barrels 
and tubs, some with horses still harnessed, others with 
the horses taken out, crowds of dogs ; children every- 
where, and great laughter and noise. Out in the bay 
the boats were round the sweep-net that was to be put 
out, the men shouting and calling to each other, and 
high in the air a flock of birds flew overhead, flapping 
their wings and screaming. 

The sky was overcast, the smoke from the steamers 
making the air seem thicker and more threatening, the 
bare, bleak islands seemed suited to the coming storm, 
they looked as if they had just started into existence ; 
the little wooded islet far out rose up solitary and mys- 
terious through the rainy mist ; the steamers came 
steaming in, puffing and whistling as if fora wager ; they 
belonged to rival companies. Men were stamping about 
in fishermen’s boots and in oilskin clothes over their 
ordinary ones ; others were dressed more like peas- 
ants in coarse cloth coats and fur caps. Women as 
well as men were busy cleaning the fish, wrapped in 
shawls or in a man’s jacket over their own ; the usual 
quiet style of conversation had been disturbed. 

Heavy drops of rain began to fall, faster and faster ; 
nearly all the faces Edward looked at were wet with the 
rain. They stared a great deal at him, the delicate look- 
ing town boy in the midst of this noisy crowd, thinly 
clad, with dripping face and breathless, his little fur 
cap clinging wet to his head. 

Who should he see just in front of him but Ingebert 
Syvertsen, the tall, black-haired man, who did business 
with his father. He was standing there bargaining, 
tall and thin, and dressed in oilskin from top to toe ; he 
had evidently taken a very active part in it all, the 
shiny fish-scales lay thick on his arms and his boots 
like silver. 

“Good day, Ingebert!” shouted the boy in great 
light. 


40 


IN GOD'S W. AY. 


The great fellow with wet face under his sou’wester, 
a great drop hanging from his nose, thin black beard, 
and three of his upper teeth missing, knew him at once 
and laughed ; then he said : “Your father is somewhere 
about my lad, he is out riding to-day." 

Someone spoke to Ingebert at that moment ; he turn- 
ed round, became angry and abusive, which took up 
time, when he turned again to speak to the boy he saw 
him already far away along the road beyond the whole 
of the fishing crowd. 

Edward had run away from sheer fright — and it was 
only when he found himself out on the road that he re- 
membered he was running just in the direction his fath- 
er was coming from. Was it likely he could get to 
Store Tuft without meeting his father ? 

But what was he to do ? All those people had seen 
him, and had stared hard at him, they would be sure 
to find out who lie was, and then when his father came 
riding past lie would hear of it too. There was not 
much use trying to run away. It was all one whether 
he got a beating now or one later. He felt inclined to 
sing again, for nothing could be worse than the present 
state of affairs. He actually did strike up a song, the 
Marseillaise, in French ; it was so very suitable for one 
advancing to get a beating as he was! But before 
he got to the end of the first Averse his courage 
failed him, his \ 7 oice grew fainter, the time slower, there 
was a general change of colouring. And oh, it was heavy 
walking, and raining fast. So his song gradually died 
away until it stopped. Then the boy’s thoughts went 
back to something he had lately read in the papers 
about a large coal mine in England that had been in- 
undated with water. The miners tried to escape as 
quickly as possible, the horses after them, down in the 
mine they couid not help themselves, poor creatures ! 
One boy who had escaped told the others about a horse 
that had neighed and whinnied so hopelessly ; the boy 
climbed to the top, but not the horse. . . . Edward 

could distinctly see what the horse must have looked 
like, its head, the beautiful shining eyes, he heard its 
breathing, its Avhinnying and felt himself turn quite 
sick. What it must be to die amid such horrors ! 
And to think that all that would come to life again at 


SCHOOL- DA VS. 


41 


the day of judgment ! And all that would arise from 
the mines and very bowels of the earth ! Why not the 
animals too ? Surely they would come forward whining 
and complaining against mankind ? Great heavens, 
what complaints there would be. And so many 
animals, too — only fancy, from the creation of the 
world ! And where were they all to be found ? On 
the eartli and down in the earth — and think of those 
that lay in the sea, at the bottom of the deep sea! 
And those who lay under that again, for in many places 
there had been land where there now was sea. Well, 
well ! 

Oh, how hungry he was ! And cold too ; he could no 
longer walk so fast, and he was very, very tired. 

And certainly there was nothing very inviting to look 
forward to, oh, no ! Well he knew the new riding-whip ; 
he had himself despatched the old one out of the 
world ; but if lie had known that the new one was still 
worse, he would have let the old one live on for a 
couple of years more. Ouf ! how his nails began to ache 
and his fingers to swell with the cold. And his feet ! 
But it would never do to think about them or they got 
worse directly ; hark, how the water sopped in his 
boots ! He amused himself by putting his feet forward 
cross ways, and went on from right to left, from left to 
right till he got tired of that too. Harder and harder 
was the struggle, more and more tedious, again he had 
to climb up hill. Dear me! is not this the last hill? 
Does not Store Tuft lie in the next valley ? Just under 
the hill? Surely that is Store Tuft? Perhaps after all 
he could get there before his father? It would always 
be something gained, the evil day put off awhile. At. 
any rate it was worth hurrying for. Fresh life came to 
the bov, on he went again ! 

His father was not always severe either, he could be 
kind sometimes. Especially if Josephine were on his 
side and asked to get him off ; and if Ole came back 
again then she surely would do that, she must take his 
part. They could try, too, to make the apothecary join 
them ! He, the apothecary, was always so kind, and it is 
a good thing to be many. Good heavens ! were there 
no others who 

Up came the chestnut's head over the hill-top ! The 


42 


IN GOD'S JVA Y. 


big straw shoes which his father used in the winter as 
stirrups stood out on each side of the old hack like the 
paws of a wild beast ; the boy stood still, petrified. 

The old hack stared at the lad from out of its heavy 
Spanish harness ; it could hardly believe its own clever 
eyes! Neither could the boy’s father believe his, for 
the round head in the gray woollen cap stretched far- 
ther and farther forward over the horse’s neck, till he 
had to lean with both hands on the pommel of the sad- 
dle. Was that drenched, dripping boy, with the wisp of 
fur on his head, standing terrified and pale as a ghost 
in the middle of the road — was that the boy who ought 
to be sitting at home doing his lessons before he was 
allowed to move ? And on Saturday afternoon ! In 
such weather and such roads, and so thinly clad, out 
on the hill at Store Tuft? And without permission? 

“What the devil are you doing there ?” 

The horse was pulled up sharp ; its warm breath 
seemed to fill the air around the boy and envelop him 
in a thick mist of unpleasant vapours from its steaming 
body. Edward dared neither move nor answer. He 
only stared up at his father through the mist in a stupid, 
clumsy fashion, as though half-dazed. 

His father dismounted without delay, and with the 
bridle round his left arm and the whip in his right hand 
he stood before the boy. 

“What’s the matter? Hey? Why are you here! 
Why the devil can’t you answer?” 

Mechanically Edward slipped farther and farther 
away, his father after him ; mechanically, too, the boy 
raised his right arm to shield his face, and stretched out 
his left to ward off the coming blows. 

“ Where are you going to ? ” 

“ To Ole Tuft.” 

“What are you going to do there? Hey? Is Ole 
Tuft at home ? Hey ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ What are you going there for ? ” 

“ I am going to — to ” 

“Well!” 

“ To beg his pardon.” 

“ To beg his pardon ? What for ? What for? Hey?” 
and he raised his whip. 


SCHOOL- DA VS. 


43 


The boy answered, hurriedly : “ He won’t come to 
school any more.” 

“ Oh, indeed ! So you’ve been teasing him ? Hey ? 
You at the head ? Hey ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“Your fault, was it? Hey ?” he cried. 

“ I found out ” here he stopped. 

“Well?” 

“ That he — that he ” and the boy began to cry. 

“Well?” 

“That he goes to visit the sick.” 

“So you told the others? Hey? Carried tales? 
Hey ? ” 

Edward dared not answer, and then the whip began 
to be troublesome ; both the lad’s arms swung up and 
down, keeping time with the whip, as if uncertain where 
it would fall next. He kept slipping farther and farther 
away. 

“ Stand still ! ” shouted his father. 

But instead the boy sprang with one bound right to 
the edge of the ditch. Fiercely the father lifted his 
whip again ; but, unintentionally, the horse behind him 
received such a sharp cut that it pulled so hard at the 
bridle as nearly to upset its master. Edward could not 
resist the comical side of this most welcome deliverance 
and he burst into a roar of laughter. But he was so 
startled at hearing himself laugh that he hopped over 
the ditch and ran into the wood. He could not possibly 
control himself as he turned away; he began to laugh 
again, and could hit upon no better way of hiding it 
than to set up a good howl. 

The father’s contempt for his son was not to be de- 
scribed. He recovered his temper, though, quieted the 
horse, and mounted again. “Come along,” said he, 
quietly, pointing with his whip in the direction of the 
Tuft valley. 

“ There will be more accounts to settle when we get 
there,” thought the boy to himself. 

He obeyed his father’s call, of course, and walked on, 
but at a safe distance in front of the horse. He kept at 
the same distance all the time ; the horse was a quick 
stepper, so it was an effort. 

The man in gray on the chestnut horse drove his son 


44 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


mercilessly on before him, through the snow and slush, 
although one could clearly see by the way he walked 
that his feet hurt him, and although his hands were half- 
frozen — lie kept putting them in his mouth — and al- 
though he was dripping wet ; his fur cap was sticking 
to his head like a washed-out rag. The man in gray 
sat comfortably on his horse, in warm, waterproof 
clothes, his whip in his hand, his eyes glistening on 
each side of his hooked nose. No one who saw this 
little procession could have guessed that the dearest 
wish of this stern-looking man was to love the boy he 
was so angrily driving before him. 

But in order to love anyone that person must be ex- 
actly as we would wish — is not that the case ? And sup- 
posing now the boy was not willing? And that Kallem 
was not accustomed to opposition ? His wife’s death 
was the first serious blow he had met with ; it happened 
not very long before this affair with the boy. Up to 
that time they had all lived abroad, Kallem leading a 
quiet retired life with his wife, his business, sport, and 
his silent books (he was a great reader), and had never 
been worried or annoyed. His wife’s brother took 
charge of the business, which was a flourishing one, 
and his wife took charge of the house, where all flour- 
ished too. Everything was managed without fear or 
disturbance, and exactly as was proper, until the wife 
died. But afterward ! 

At first neither he himself nor any of the others could 
realize the unexpected change that had come over him. 
Some people thought that the loss of his wife had made 
him mad ; he himself thought that the air of Spain was 
too warm ; he was anxious ta leave, and longed for 
home. The head of the firm agreed at once. It would 
be a capital speculation to move the principal house of 
business to Norway and just have a branch house in 
Spain. And so they left — now about a year ago. 

But it was the boy who, when they were still in 
Spain, had been the cause of his father’s first losing 
command of himself, and indeed the second time too, 
and unfortunately also the third, fourth, fifth, sixth 
time ; it was always the boy. And the same thing, too, 
when they had moved to Norway. Hot or cold climate, 
the boy was equally troublesome. 


SCHOOL- DA VS . 


45 


Soon there began to come complaints about him over 
from the school, then from the apothecary, who was an 
old friend of Kallem’s, and in whose house they had 
lodgings ; tiien from the courtyard, from the neighbours, 
and from the wharf. But possibly other parents also 
heard complaints about their sons, and perhaps people 
in this part of the world were more given to complain- 
ing ; of course Kallem could know nothing about that, 
for he was a solitary man. But he knew that his son 
was the cleverest lad in all the school ; one master after 
the other came and assured him of that ; he knew that 
nothing was lacking in the boy, neither heart nor will ; 
but he was peculiar, indifferent to all, and yet liked 
meddling in matters that did not concern him. He was 
both brave and cowardly, a shameful tease, and alto- 
gether hopelessly naughty. He would have tried the 
patience of an angel from heaven, to say nothing of 
Kallem, who was entirely without that virtue. 

This thin, slippery customer, limping on in front of 
him with frightened side-glances at both horse and 
whip, had spoilt the peace of his father’s life. Not only 
had he made him feel inwardly so unsafe and uncertain, 
but at times his want of power became perfect helpless- 
ness, and on those occasions he longed to beat the boy 
to smithereens. 

He would send for him and try both threats and en- 
treaties. Last night, the night of the storm, he had 
kept guard over him and used all his powers of per- 
suasion trying to talk the boy out of his shameful 
fright, scolded him and tried to make it clear to him by 
all manner of natural history proofs that the prophecy 
about the end of the world was all a lie, an invention. 
The boy answered, yes, and indeed, but did not believe 
a word his father said ! As soon as the storm broke 
he was like one crazy, out and away in the most ab- 
ject state of fear. 

And here he is now to-day, out on the open high 
road, a mile from the town, in rain, storm, and wind, 
and of course without permission. First he goes and ill- 
treats the best lad in the school, a little fellow whom Kal- 
lem was really fond of and had helped with a few pence 
now and then for his little mission, which he heard of 
from Josephine ; and then on the top of that 


4 6 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


“ Look at him ! ” said he, to himself. “ Deuce take 
the boy, if he isn’t laughing ! ” but he pretended not to 
see it. 

What was that ? Why, the horse behind him with 
“ What the devil ” on its back, and the whip, and the 
heavy tramp, tramp in the snow and slush. Sop-sop, 
sop-sop, sop-sop, sop-sop ; all this grew and grew and 
got larger and larger, until it became a huge monster 
all twisted and shapeless. . . . Hurriedly the boy be- 
gan thinking of other things. He threw himself into 
the coal-mine in England that had been inundated, and 
tried to conjure up before him the horse that had 
neighed so piteously after the escaping miner lad. But 
no, he could not force himself into the mine ; there was 
nothing but the high road and “ sop-sop, sop-sop,” and 
“What the devil ” and his whip, and he himself in front 
limping along with one leg and a half, he, he — e — e ! 

A shrill “ Hey ! ” came from behind. The sound 
seemed to creep down the boy’s back like a sharp piece 
of ice. 

Presently Store Tuft came in sight. It lay just 
below the hill they were going down. There were 
many outhouses, most of them in a square round the 
farmyard ; a stream rushed noisily by on the other side 
where the corn and saw-mills lay ; the islands outside 
and the two arms of land on either side shut in the bay 
so completely that the water there was as still and quiet 
as a millpond, with ice in the corners ; there was a row 
of boathouses side by side along the bay ; there were 
fruit-gardens, too, most of them a good size. 

The smoke rose up from the house-chimney at Store 
Tuft — at last ! Ole’s mother must be cooking dinner for 
him! And hunger, grief, and longing came over the 
boy, and the thought of a warm room and dry clothes, 
and the remembrance of his own mother and of their 
home in Spain nearly made him cry again ; but then lie 
thought that his father would say : “ Devil take him ! 
Now he’s crying again !” so he controlled himself. 

He looked toward the farm with fear and trembling. 

The house lay with its longest side out to the garden ; 
it was a two-storied wooden house, painted red, with 
white window-sills. They turned up the road, the boy 
still in front, the father after him. 


SCHOOL-DA YS. 


47 


Passing the short end of the house they came into 
the yard ; on the other side of that lay cow-house and 
stable, under the same roof ; these buildings were quite 
new, and lay at right angles with the barn, wood-house, 
and other buildings in the middle. A herd of goats 
stood in this corner munching leaves, and surrounded 
by an incredible number of sparrows. The whole party 
were collected together just outside the barn. 

The goats caught sight of the newcomers ; they lifted 
their heads and stretched out their necks all at the same 
moment, their eyes wide open, ears standing up stiff, 
with the last bite immovable in their mouths, inquisitive 
to the last degree. The billy-goat only kept on munch- 
ing as he looked at them, lazily satisfied. The flock of 
sparrows flew away with a whirr. 

Between the cattle-stable and the short end of the 
dwelling-house, the father stopped and dismounted. 
The boy was already inside the yard, and stood startng 
at the barn roof, which was broken up and being re- 
newed, but there were no workmen to be seen ; prob- 
ably they had gone off to the herring fishery ; the lad- 
der still stood on the scaffolding, leaning upward. 

“ Stop ! ” shouted the father, and the boy stopped and 
turned round ; his father was tying up his old hack to 
one of the grinding stones which stood up against this 
short end of the dwelling-house ; the lad stood and 
looked on. 

“Wonderful, how quiet he is now,” thought the 
father, as he came forward and pointed with his whip. 
The boy was to walk in front of him up to the 
broad stone step at the entrance in the middle of the 
house. And he did so. Past a sledge with railed-in 
seat that was standing there ; he discovered two kittens 
playing with each other through the railing, the one 
inside, the other outside. The windows they went past 
were so low that they could see right through the little 
room which had windows on the other side, and through 
that again into the other room. There sat Ole in a 
huge shirt that reached down to his feet, in front of the 
hearth with his legs up ; his mother stood beside him, 
bending over some pots and pans. Edward had not 
time to see more ; he stepped over the stone and into the 
passage, where he was met by a strong smell of fish, 


48 


/AT COD'S IV A V. 


both old and new ; also a smell of something else which 
he could not at first make out. The father pointed on 
to the right ; to the left, too, there was a door, grandly- 
painted and with a brass handle, and he was not meant 
to go there. No, thought the boy, I knev^ that much, 
too, that we were to go where there are people, and not 
into the cold guest room. He put his swollen fingers 
on the latch and lifted it. 

The fireplace was in the corner to the left, close by 
the door, and one can fancy how the two in there opened 
their eyes ! To such an extent that curly-lock’s head 
stretched up out of his father’s wide blue linen shirt. The 
mother was tall and had a delicate face ; she wore a 
black cap ; her fair hair was puffed out down her cheeks 
and made her face seem long. She turned from her pots 
and pans toward the two arrivals, whom she knew both. 
It was a grave but friendly face. She seemed afraid 
and uncertain. Just at first she did not let her eyes 
rest on either of them. Ole’s boots stood by the fire- 
side ; but his clothes, shirt, and stockings were hung 
up to dry above on some of the many poles that reached 
across from beam to beam. On the other poles were 
bundles of wood and various things put up to dry. 
Dishes and cups stood about just as usual on a week- 
day. 

The room was not painted but wainscoted ; on each 
side under the windows there were red-painted benches. 
In the corner to the left, at the other side of the win- 
dow, stood a table with a bookcase above ; at the end 
of the table, just by the door into the smaller room, hung 
the clock. It ticked as evenly and cheerily as if there 
had never before been anything but peace in that room. 
Outside he saw the kittens in the sledge, the one inside 
sticking its paw out through the railing, and the outside 
one pushing its paw in ; and then he saw Ole’s face just 
in front of him. He was smiling, was Ole, and it was 
because he too was afraid. But those pots and pans ! 
Hungry and tired as Edward w*as, the pots seemed to 
him the best part of it all. There were potatoes in the 
one which stood down, quite ready ; but two pots still 
hung over the fire; could it be fish in one of them? 
But in the other ? 

The mother hesitated, not knowing what to do ; for 


• SCHOOL-DAYS . 


49 


they remained standing there, the angry looking man 
and the boy. At last just as she was going to ask them 
to sit down, or something similar, the father began. He 
presumed that she knew now what had happened, hey ? 
The boy had come to beg pardon and to receive his 
punishment ; it was quite necessary, for he was a bad 
boy and nothing but punishing did him any good ; kind- 
ness was utterly wasted on him. 

“ Oh, must it be ?” said the mother, mildly. She was 
quite frightened, and Ole turned a bluish-white, like the 
shirt he had on. 

“ Yes, he must have a beating ! Beg pardon first. 
Sharp’s the word ? ” 

Ole began to cry, not so Edward. Ole could not sit 
still; he got up, he looked at his mother: “Mother, 
dear ! ” said he. He could not get out another word ; 
but his meaning was evident, his mother was to make 
peace between them. 

“Beg pardon!” shouted the father, and the whip 
became restless. 

“ But, mother dear ! ” shrieked Ole. 

Then Edward had to come forward. Ole turned away ; 
he could not'look on any longer, he was not used to that 
sort of thing. Edward dived and ducked, his father after 
him with clanking spurs. In his fright Edward rushed to 
Ole’s mother with outstretched hand ; she did not take 
it, but Ole began to yell. So much sympathy was too 
much for poor Edward ; he too began to roar, as he 
dashed round and round the mother. There was such 
a hubbub and noise that again the goats stopped their 
munching and stared in, listening ; the sparrows too, 
which had come back, flew away over the roof. 

And what happened ? The sparrows showed the boy 
the way. Quick as lightning, he flew past his father 
and out at the door, which he left wide open behind him. 
They saw the goats fly on all sides, and the boy into the 
scaffolding, up the ladder, and on to the roof. Directly 
he got there he began to pull the ladder up after him. 

“Look at him ! Look at him !” screamed his father 
from the window. “ Hey ! ” and away he rushed. 

As soon as his son saw him coming he dropped the 
ladder which fell thundering down. Like a cat the lad 
ran up the rafters to the ridge of the roof and along 
4 


5 ° 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


that, balancing himself as though he had never done 
anything else all his life. He thought no more of his 
aching feet. 

His father was in great alarm : “Take care, I say, 
take care there, take care ! Come away from there, and 
at once ! Come down, you young wretch ! ” He ran out 
into the yard in his long riding-boots and threatened 
him with the whip. 

“ I think I see myself ! I shall jump right down into 
the yard ! ” 

“ Mad boy ! Devil take him ! Will you come down ? ” 

“ Yes if you’ll not beat me !.” 

“ I won’t promise.” 

“Oh, you won’t promise?” and away crept the boy 
farther out along the ridge. 

“Yes, yes ! O you wretch ! O you coward ! ” 

“Well, have you promised?” 

“ Devil take your promising. Come down, can’t 
you !” 

“ And you won’t pull my hair either ? ” 

“ Down with you ! You’ll only fall up there ! ” 

“ You won’t pull my hair and won’t beat me, and 
won’t do anything ? ” 

“ No, no, no ! But come down directly ! Look, now 
you’re slipping ! Edward, do you hear ? ” shouted he. 

“Well, will you keep to what you promise?” 

“ Oh ! what don’t you deserve ! ” and he threatened 
up with his whip. “ Yes, yes, I promise ! But take 
care ! ” 

But the boy went on : “ May I stay here till to- 

morrow with Ole ? May I ?” 

“ I won’t answer anything till you come down.” 

“ Oh, you won’t ? all right ! ” 

“ Oh you scoundrel ; oh, you miserable rascal !” 

“ Do you agree, then ? ” 

“ Yes, deuce take you ! But get away from the outer 
edge at least ! Devil take the boy ! ” 

“ I say, it might be just as well if you went away first 
father.” 

“Not I ; you’ll not get me to do that. Never. I 
must see you down first.” 

The boy thought this just as well. His father put up 
the ladder and slowly the lad came down ; but not un- 


SCHOOL-DA VS. 


5 * 


til his father had gone a little way back into the yard. 
And he kept his distance, although his father wished 
to speak to him and assured him he would not harm 
him. Neither would he go into the house as long as his 
father stayed there ; but being wet through, obliged his 
father to go away. 

Five or six minutes after both lads lay kicking on 
the floor, Edward in just as big a shirt as Ole’s and 
equally naked otherwise ; they were both going to put 
on a pair of thick woollen stockings, of the kind the 
peasants use that come well up over the thighs. They 
had thought it easier to try and put them on sit- 
ting on the floor, which was strewn with sand. There 
they pushed each other over and laughed as though 
many days had gone by since that happened which we 
have just witnessed. Everything Edward did Ole did 
after him ; they laughed until at last the quiet, gentle 
mother was obliged to laugh too ; there was no end to 
all that Edward hit upon. They were to put on those 
long stockings so that they might sit at table and eat 
their dinner without feeling too cold ; at table there was 
no fireplace for their legs. And at last they were so 
far ready they got them on. And then was disclosed 
the contents of the other pot ; it was cream porridge. 
Edward had never tasted that before. Ole was to be 
coaxed into better spirits than he was in when he ar- 
rived, therefore his mother had made that porridge for 
him. Edward applauded loudly and greeted the food 
with laughter. 

But all at once Ole sat quite solemn and quiet. What 
now ? Hands folded, eyes cast down ? The mother 
stood before them ; she too was serious with folded 
hands and cast-down eyes. Her face was bent down, 
it seemed to be vanishing gradually farther and farther, 
or rather it was as if shutters were put up before and 
all light in it extinguished. And then she began, as 
though from afar, a long, long grace, in a low monoto- 
nous voice, as if she were talking quietly with someone 
but at some other place. Edward felt himself out of it 
all. His loneliness and fright came back again, the old 
recollections and the old longing for his mother. Then 
it passed away, pushed back like a shutter ; it all van- 
ished behind the hill. 


5 2 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


Edward had never before been present when grace 
was said at meals, and her manner and ways were so 
altogether new to him, and he did not understand her 
and her mumbling. He sat very quiet for some time 
after. Ole did not speak either ; all the time while 
they were dining lie was very silent and hardly even 
smiled. Food was God’s gift; a certain solemnity was 
therefore necessary. 

But what a serious matter their eating was ! The 
mother asked them at last if they did not think it would 
be best to keep a little till the evening ? No, they said, 
this was dinner and supper in one. They were to sleep 
together in the servant’s room, which was used as a 
spare room ; the fire had been lighted there, and now 
they would sit by the fireside for an hour or so and 
then go to bed. 

The mother saw they would rather be alone, so she 
left them. 

Then afterward when they were in the bedroom ! At 
first the most terrific row ; the bed-clothes and feather- 
beds flew about them ; then they grew calmer after 
each attack, and at last they began to talk. Ole told 
how the boys had treated him and Edward promised 
that he would give that boy such a thrashing — yes, even 
if it were Anders Hegge himself — if he would not hold 
his tongue about the “ ways of God,” and all that, Ed- 
ward would give him a proper kind of beating. Anders 
Hegge was a coward. He knew who he would get to 
help him ; they would have such fun ! 

As they grew more tired they became sentimental. 
Ole spoke of Josephine and Edward joined in and assured 
him that she had behaved splendidly that day. He de- 
scribed her as she came rowing out in search of him. 
Ole thought this grand. Certainly there was something 
great about Josephine ; they both agreed as to that. 

Edward could not understand why Ole should wish to 
be a missionary ? Why on earth was it such an excel- 
lent thing to go off on wild adventures when one had 
enough to do here at home? Ole should be a clergy- 
man and he would be a doctor, and they would both live 
together in the same town ; would not that be much 
nicer ? 

And Edward went on drawing pictures of their . future 


SCHOOL- DA YS. 


S3 


life. They were to live next door to each other and be 
often together ; in the evenings particularly, with their 
glass of punch, just as his father and the apothecary were 
and play chess together as those two did. And they 
would have a carriage for high days and holidays, and 
each harness his own horse to it and drive out together; 
it would be more sociable like that. Or else they would 
live by the sea-side and have a big boat between them ; 
everything must be between them. 

In Ole’s fancy Josephine was to be always with them, 
though Edward did not actually say as much. But it 
was clear that she was *to be with them. And Ole 
thought this showed so much tact on Edward’s part 
and was very grateful to him ; indeed it quite decided 
him. Josephine was to be the clergyman’s wife and 
manage everything in the house. 

At last he agreed to all ; it was decided that one was 
to be a clergyman and the other a doctor, and they were 
to live together. The last thing they talked about was 
their fishing expeditions. 

They heard sounds of tramping and talking ; it was 
the men coming home from the herring-fishing. But 
they were very tired and soon fell asleep. 








YOUTH 








I 


« 



























































V 









« 


























































I. 


FIRST COUPLE FORWARD 

There was a party of young people collected together 
at a country house about five kilometres outside the 
town. The garden they were sitting in down by the 
cove was brightly coloured by their light summer clothes, 
especially those of the girls : 

“ Yellow, black, brown, white, 

Green, violet, blue,” 


some self-coloured, others variegated, checks and stripes; 
felt hats, straw hats, tulle hats, caps, bare heads, parasols. 
A sound of singing rose harmoniously up out of this 
medley of colour; men’s and women’s voices in chorus 
floating in long undulating waves of sound. There was no 
conductor ; a dark young girl in a brown checked dress 
lay in the midst of the group, leaning on one elbow, and 
led the singing with a soprano voice stronger and clearer 
than the others ; and they followed her lead. They 
were in good practice. In the cove below them lay a 
freshly painted smack, with half rigged up new sails ; 
the water calm as a mirror. 

The singing and the smack seemed brightly to enter 
into league with each other down in that black-looking 
cove, overshadowed and shut in by the bleak mountains 
with still higher ones in the distance. The little cove 
was like a mountain lake, once caused by a flood but 
since forgotten. The mountains — oh, so heavy and 
stunted in outline as in colour, rugged and leaden-look- 
ing, the more distant ones blue-black, with dirty snow 
on their peaks, monsters all of them. 

The smack lay on the black water, ready for a dance ; 
it belonged to a more light-hearted community than 
these lofty accessories of nature and human life. The 


58 


IN GOD'S IV. AY. 


smack and the singing protested against all overween- 
ing despotism, all that was rude, rough, and coarse — a 
free swaying protest, proudly delighting in their colours. 

But the mountains took no notice of this protest, nor 
did the young people ever understand that it had been 
made. The “ high-born ” part of being born and bred 
in scenery like that of Norway’s west country is just 
this, that nature forces one to make a stand, if one 
would not be utterly crushed and overwhelmed ; either 
one must be beneath or above all ! And they were 
above ; for the west country folk are the brightest and 
cleverest of all Scandinavians. In so great a degree do 
they feel themselves masters of the situation as regards 
their scenery that not one of all these young people felt 
the mountains as heavy and cold in colour ; all nature 
seemed to them fresh and strong, as nowhere else in 
the world. 

But they who now sat there singing or listening only 
had not been born and nurtured by glad songs and the 
wide sea alone ; no, they were children of the moun- 
tains too ; children of them as well as of the songs and 
sea. Just before the song began they had been engaged 
in a discussion as sharp and cutting, as leaden-hued as 
any mountain. It was to do away with this stone-like 
sharpness among themselves that they had sent forth 
their melodious song, building long bridges of glorious 
harmony across the mountain-peaks and precipices. 
The summer day was slightly gray in itself ; but occa- 
sionally (just as at that moment !) the sun shone forth 
over song and sail and landscape. 

There sat two on whom both sun and song were 
wasted. Look at him down there, a little to the right, 
lying in the grass, leaning on his elbow ; a tall young 
fellow in light summer clothes and without hat, a round 
closely-cropped head, short, broad forehead that looked 
like butting, a forehead that in his boyish days must 
have given many a hard bang ! Below the forehead 
was a nose like a beak, and sharp eyes that just then 
were slightly squinting; either the spectacles concealed 
it so as to make it hardly visible, or else it really was 
only very slight. The whole face had something severe 
about it, the mouth was pinched and hard and the chin 
sharp. But when one looked more closely into it the 


YOUTH. 


59 


impression it gave one changed entirely ; all that was so 
sharply cut became energetic rather than severe, and 
the spirit which had taken up its abode in this moun- 
tainous country could doubtless be both a friendly and 
a mischievous one. Even then, as he sat there in a 
towering rage, not caring a hang about either sunshine 
or song, he would rather have had a fight — even then 
gleams of merriment shot out from under the angry 
brows. It was clear that lie was the conqueror. 

If anyone doubted it they need only cast an eye over 
to the other side of the group on him who sat up against 
a tree to the left, a little higher up the bank. He was 
the picture of a wounded warrior, suffering, and with all 
the trembling uneasiness of battle still in his features. 
It was a long fair face, not a west country face, but be- 
longing rather to the mountain districts or highlands ; 
either he was a foreigner, or else he came of a race of 
immigrants ; he was strikingly like the popular pictures 
of Melanchthon, though perhaps the eyes were a little 
more dreamy and the eyebrows a little more arched ; alto- 
gether the likeness, particularly the forehead, position 
of the eyes, and the mouth, was so striking that among 
his fellow-students he always went by the name of Me- 
lanchthon. 

This was Ole Tuft, student in theology, his studies 
nearly completed ; and the other one, the conqueror 
with the eagle’s beak (which just now had been hacking 
so sharply), was the friend of his childhood, Edward 
Kallem, medical student. 

Several years ago their paths in life had begun to de- 
viate, but so far there had never been any serious en- 
counter between them ; but now what had happened 
was to prove decisive. 

Between these two, in the middle of the garden and 
surrounded by the singers, sat a tall girl in a plum-col- 
ored silk dress, round her neck some broad yellow lace 
which hung in long loose folds down to her waist. She 
herself was not singing ; she was making a wreath out 
of a whole garden of field flowers and grass. One could 
easily see that she was sister to the conqueror, but with 
darker complexion and hair. The same shape of head, 
although her forehead was comparatively higher and 
the whole face larger, undoubtedly too large. The 


6o 


IN GOD’S WAY. 


sharp family nose had a more gentle bend in her 
well-proportioned face ; his thin lips became fuller, his 
chin more rounded, his uneven eyebrows more even, the 
eyes larger — and yet it was the same face. The expres- 
sion of the two was different ; hers, though not cold, was 
calm and silent ; no (me could quickly read those deep 
eyes ; and yet the two expressions were much alike. 
Her head was well set on a strong-looking neck and 
well-shaped shoulders, the bust, too, was well developed. 
Her dark hair was twisted into a knot peculiar to her- 
self. Her throat was bare, but the dress, with its yellow 
lace fastened closely round it — indeed, her whole attire 
gave one the idea of something shut in, buttoned up as 
it were ; and so it was with her whole manner. As be- 
fore said, siie was making a wreath and looked neither 
at one or the other of the two who had been fighting. 

The quarrel has been caused by a large black dog ; it 
lay there now pretending to sleep, its thick wet coat 
glistening in the sun. Several of them had been throw- 
ing sticks into the water and sending the dog in after 
them ; eacli time they threw a stick they shouted, 
“ Samson ! Samson ! ” — that was the dog’s name. Ed- 
ward Kallem said to two or three who stood near him, 
“ Samson means sun-god.” 

“What ?” aske.d one young girl, “does Samson mean 
sun-god ? ” 

“ Certainly it does ; but of course the clergymen take 
care not to tell that.” He said it in youthful exuber- 
ance, not in the least intending to hurt anyone’s feel- 
ings, or to say more at all. But by chance Ole Tuft 
overheard him and said, with rather a superior air : 

“ Why should the clergymen not dare to tell the chil- 
dren that Samson means sun-god ?” 

“Why, for then the whole legend about him could no 
longer serve them as a type of the Christ-mvth.” 

This last word was like a sharp stab, and it was meant 
as such. With a superior smile Ole said: 

“ I suppose Samson may be used as a type, whether 
he be called sun-god or not.” 

“ Certainly, whether he be called sun-god or not, but 
suppose him to sun-god ? ” 

“Indeed, so he was sun-god?” shouted Ole, laugh- 
ing. 


YOUTH. 


61 


“The name tells 11s so.” 

“ The name ? Are we bears or wolves because we 
are called after bears or wolves ? Or gods because we 
are called after gods ? ” 

Several of the party stood by listening ; others joined 
them, Josephine among the number, and both turned at 
once to her. 

“ The misfortune is,” said Edward, “ that it is only the 
fact of his being a sun-god that gives any sense to the 
stories told about Samson.” 

“ Oh, nowadays all old records of everybody’s fore- 
fathers are turned into sun legends. And Ole related a 
few amusing parodies of this scientific craze now so 
much in vogue. They all laughed, Josephine too ; Ed- 
ward became excited at once and began to explain that 
our gods, who were Indian sun-gods, had in reality been 
turned into our forefathers when a new religion was 
started ; the altars which then had been used for sacri- 
fices were turned into graves or burying-places. In the 
same way all the old sun-gods of the Jews had been 
changed to forefathers when the worship of Jehovah 
did away with them as gods.” 

“ Who can know that ? ” 

“ Know it ? Why, take Samson ! How utterly mean- 
ingless to believe that anyone’s strength should be in 
his hair ! But as soon as we take it for granted that it 
is the sun’s rays, lengthy in summer-time, but cut short in 
the lap of winter, then there is some sense in it. And 
when the rays grew longer and longer, and spring drew 
near, then all can understand that the sun-god could 
again encircle with his arms the pillars of the world. 
Never have bees been known to deposit their honey in 
a beast’s carcase ; but when we hear that each time the 
sun passes over one of the signs of the stars — for in- 
stance, the lion’s — then it is said that the sun slaught- 
ered the lion ; then we can understand that the bees 
made their honey in the dead lion’s carcase, that is to 
say, in the hottest part of the summer.” 

The whole party was all ears, and Josephine was 
highly astonished. She did not look up at her brother 
because she felt he was looking at her, but the impres- 
sion made was unmistakable. What Edward had at 
first started, without other thought than that of showing 


62 


IiV GOD'S PVAY. 


off a little, was now a decided tiling aimed at, and it was 
because Josephine stood between them. 

“With the Egyptians,” explained he, “the spring 
began when the sun slaughtered the lamb, that is to say, 
passed across the sign of the lamb — in their delight 
at the renewal of all tilings, every Egyptian slaughtered 
a lamb that day. The Jews have it from them. It is 
utterly false if the Jews later on have changed this to 
something that separates them from the Egyptians. 
Just as with the circumcision, they have that, too, from 
Egypt. But clergymen take care never to speak of 
that kind of thing.” 

Ole Tuft had little or no knowledge of all these 
things. His plodding studies had been severely theo- 
logical, he had not time for more, and his faith was an 
inheritance from an old peasant race, and was far too 
secure in itself to be capable of scientific doubts. Had 
he announced this fact straight out, there would proba- 
bly have been an end of the matter. But he too felt 
that Josephine stood between them and was allowing 
herself to be led away. So he began with great scorn 
to call everything vague inventions, empty devices, 
shining one day, melted away on the morrow. 

The other’s vanity would not stand this. “Theolo- 
gians,” cried he, “are wanting in the very simplest 
honesty. They conceal the fact that the most impor- 
tant items of their faith are not revealed to the Jews, but 
simply taken up and accepted from elsewhere! Like 
the creed of immortality, that is from Egypt. The same 
with the Commandments. No one climbs up on to a 
high mountain to have revealed to him in a thunder- 
storm what others have known for thousands of years. 
Where is the devil from ? And the punishments of hell ? 
Whence the last day and judgment ? And the angels? 
The Jews knew nothing of all this. Clergymen are a 
set — in short, a set who do not honestly investigate 
matters, telling people such things.” 

Josephine subsided completely ; all the young people, 
particularly the men, were evidently on Kallem’s side ; 
free-thinking was the fashion, and it was amusing to 
have a laugh at the old faith handed down from days of 
yore. 

One young man began mocking at the history of the 


YOUTH. 


6 3 


creation ; Kallem possessed both geological and palae- 
ontological learning, and he made good use of it. Still 
less on this subject could Ole Tuft argue with them ; he 
alluded again to a trial that had been made to reconcile 
the doctrines of the Bible with more recent discoveries, 
but it fared badly with him. And on they went in rapid 
succession from dogma to dogma — now they lay bask- 
ing in the doctrine of the atonement of sins, it descend- 
ed from so ancient and uncultured a time that such a 
thing as individual responsibility was not then known, 
merely that of the whole tribe or family. Tuft was in 
despair; to him it really was an important question, 
and much moved, in a loud voice, he began to confess 
his faith. As if that were of any use! Excuses! In- 
ventions! — show us your proofs! Too late, Ole Tuft 
perceived that he had defended the cause too eagerly 
and had therefore lost all. He was overcome with 
grief, fought without hope, but fought on all the same 
and shouted out that, if a single one of all those truths 
seemed doubtful, the fault was his ; he lacked the 
power to defend it. But the Word of God would stand 
unharmed to the last hour of the world ! What is the 
Word of God ? It is the spirit and entirety of the 
Bible, the creation (No !) ; the deluge (No! No !); the 
expiation by death (No, No, No!); he shouted, they 
shouted ; the tears rushed to Tuft’s eyes, his voice shook ; 
he looked pale and handsome. 

Young people are not quite so cruel as children ; but 
still it is the same kind of spirit. Some were sorry for 
him, others just wanted to drive him into a corner, Ed- 
ward Kallem first and foremost. 

But Josephine stepped quickly away to the dark girl 
with the soprano voice. She began one of their songs 
directly, the others joined in, the gentlemen rather 
after the ladies. With very few exceptions, the party 
consisted of a chorus of ladies and gentlemen who had 
practised together the last three winters with all the 
perseverance and industry only to be met with in a 
small town. 

Josephine went and sat down in the middle of the 
bank, the others round about her. She did not sing ; 
she had her flowers. 

The party had come out there in the little schooner 


6 4 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


which now lay so fresh and bright-looking in the sun. 
On board, Josephine, Edward, and Ole had sat together, 
close together, for there was not much room. No one 
could guess, hearing their merry, oft-whispered conver- 
sation, that there was aught between them save friend- 
ship and goodwill. And now, only three hours after, 
Ole Tuft sat there like an outcast ! How he suffered ! 
An attack on his calling, on his faith, and before them 
all ! And by Edward, too ! So cruel, so persistingly 
scornful ! And Josephine ? Not a single word of sym- 
pathy, not even a look from Josephine. 

From their childhood Ole and she had been con- 
stantly together ; they had written to each other when 
he was away at Christiania, he once a fortnight, she as 
often as she had anything to write about. When he 
was at home for his holidays they met daily. During 
the two years that she was at a French school and away 
in Spain their correspondence had been more active 
than ever, on her part, too, and when she came home 
again — changed though she was otherwise — to him she 
was always the same. Her father had helped him with 
his studies and enabled him to give all his attention to 
them ; he was to pass his last examination at Christmas ; 
everyone prophesied that it would be one of the first 
and best ever passed in theology. Undoubtedly he had 
her, and possibly her brother too, to thank for his hav- 
ing been helped. In former days they had both of them 
brought him to their father, to the head-master, to the 
apothecary, and to many other families ; and now 
through her he was accepted everywhere. In everyday 
life she spoke but little, and was often rather difficult to 
get on with ; but she was a firm and true friend. At 
times she would censure him (for he was not always ac- 
cording to her taste) ; it was all part of their intercourse 
and he did not attach much importance to it, nor she 
either ; from the very first she had always been his 
guardian. As yet he had not dared to say that he loved 
her ; there was no necessity for it, and, in fact, it was al- 
most too sacred to be mentioned. He was as sure of 
her as of his own faith. He was a peasant, his chief 
characteristic was a certain trustful, solid collectiveness. 
God provided for his faith ; his well-being and future 
were provided for — of course also by God ; but through 


YOUTH ; 


65 


Josephine. In his eyes she was the cleverest, most 
beautiful and healthiest girl not only in the town but in 
the whole country, and she was very rich. This last 
must be taken into consideration too ; as a small boy 
lie had been an ambitious dreamer, but now his dreams 
had a different bent. 

His fellow-students knew all about it ; as well as 
Melancthon, they called him the “bishop-theme from 
the bay,” or the “ bay bishop.” He had got accustomed 
to this, it was almost a necessity for him ; there was 
something child-like in his smiling trustfulness that 
suited him well ; then he was so handsome, with his 
fair, open face ; and when that is the case it is quite ex- 
cusable to be ambitious. 

Now he felt that he had been hurled down from his 
secure and pleasant height ! Anyone who having been 
safe and secure, for the first time is thoroughly defeated, 
feels so completely out of it all. The worst of this was 
that Josephine did not appear to wish to have anything 
to do with him ; he looked repeatedly across to her, but 
she went on arranging her flowers and grass just as if 
he did not exist. 

At last it was exactly as though they all had glided 
away and he too were no longer there. He sat without 
seeming to sit, heard without hearing, saw without see- 
ing. The supper was being got ready up before the 
house ; they all went up there as soon as the table was 
laid ; they ate, they drank, they laughed and made 
merry ; but he was not with them, he stood there star- 
ing out across the bay — far, far away. A young man, 
clerk in some business, spoke to him about the routes 
of the different steamers and how badly they were man- 
aged ; a girl with crooked teeth, red hair in plaits and 
a freckled face (he had formerly been her master), as- 
sured him that sailors were by no means so well edu- 
cated as one might expect from people who travelled 
so much. The hostess came and asked how it was he 
would not eat anything, and the host took wine with 
him ; in doing so they showed him the usual respect ; 
but both of them cast a hurried, searching glance at his 
eyes, which made him tremble. He felt they doubted. 
In his ceaseless and ever-increasing pain, he saw noth- 
ing but doubt and scorn on every side, even in theTact 

5 


66 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


of the general merriment. Edward Kallcm was espe- 
cially full of fun and they all collected round him. It 
was in his honor too (he had come home a fortnight 
ago) that the expedition had been got up. As in a 
dream, Ole saw that Josephine’s flowers had been placed 
on the table, and he heard how everyone praised the 
blending of their colors ; she herself was sitting at a 
little stone table with two girl friends — was that to pre- 
vent his joining her? There was much noise and fun 
going on at the other side. He saw her talking and 
laughing, albthe young men waiting upon her ; Edward 
joined them several times ; he made them laugh too. 
Ole noticed all this with a strange feeling of fear. The 
noise jarred on him, the laughter made him feel ashamed, 
he could not swallow a morsel, and the wine had a bad 
taste ; everyone seemed as though they were worked by 
machinery, the house, the bay, the schooner, the moun- 
tains, all seemed so overwhelmingly near. 

A dead calm had set in, so that the whole party were 
obliged to walk back to town. They started on their 
walk singing and all together ; but almost immediately 
some of the numerous summer visitors came pouring 
out from the houses along the road, and, as they were 
all acquaintances, they stopped to speak. The new- 
comers joined them and walked' on with them ; then 
came others, and each time they stopped, and each time 
the party broke up and became more divided. In that 
way Ole was able to keep behind without anyone’s no- 
ticing it. He could not bear their company and their 
merriment any longer. 

Now it was that everything was, as it were, concen- 
trated in Josephine. The being attacked and over- 
thrown by Edward, the shame of this defeat, his 
wounded religious feelings ... it all was due to 
the fact that she had not upheld him, neither by word 
nor by look ; had shunned him before, and now had 
gone and left him ! He could not stand that ; for she 
had grown to be so much, too much, for him, he knew 
it and was not ashamed. That which once had been his 
highest aim, namely, to be a missionary, had fallen from 
him like scales, when he saw she no longer cared about 
it. Whenever his mother had said that he should never 
become a missionary, his answer was that God must be 


YOUTH ; 


67 


obeyed before man. But when Josephine, in her strong 
sort of way, had looked closer into the reality of tilings, 
he gave up all his wishes without her needing even to 
say a word on the subject. He said to himself that he 
would surely be punished for having so great a love for 
any one person. But he could not help it. 

With these and thousands of similar thoughts in his 
mind, he lagged behind, and turned off from the road 
up into the wood ; there he lay down, waiting until 
their summer acquaintances should pass back again. 
He soon turned over, and lay with his face downwards, 
the cool blades of grass prickling both cheeks and fore- 
head, and the half-wet earth he seemed to inhale suited 
his mood. All these tiny blades of grass were as noth- 
ing in the shade ; and so it was with him — through her 
he reached the sunny side of life, without her all was 
shadow. 

A voice within him seemed to say her brother had 
taken her from him. 

Her brother, who, until a very few days ago, had not 
cared a straw about her, whilst Ole had always been 
with her since they were children together, had rowed 
with her, read to her, been to her both brother and 
sister in one, and had faithfully written to her when 
they were separated ; her own brother had never done 
any one of all these things. Even his defeat of to-day he 
credited to her account ; for if he had not, for her sake, 
been so conscientious in working for his examination, 
to which he had been assisted by her father, then lie 
would probably have known more about all those mat- 
ters under discussion to-day — he would perhaps not 
have been defeated at all ; this, too, he suffered for the 
sake of his fidelity. 

As long as Josephine was a child and half grown up, 
Edward had seldom been together with her without 
teasing her. She was very thin, with large, black eyes, 
often uncombed hair, red hands, altogether scraggy ; he 
nicknamed her “the duckling,” and once when she had 
hurt her foot and went about limping, “the lame duck- 
ling.” 

He could never really make her out, she was so de- 
fiant, and yet shy — kept always at a distance. And 
then, time upon time, she was the cause of his getting 


68 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


a beating. She considered it “ just ” to tell each time 
he did anything wrong. And if he beat her for tell- 
ing, then it was “just” to tell about that too. He 
took a dislike to her. Soon, however, they were sep- 
arated, through his leaving his father’s house. After 
that unlucky day, when father and son met on the road 
to Store-Tuft, the apothecary took pity on his old friend 
and, taking the boy from him, adopted him entirely as 
his own son. What the father had never been able to 
succeed in succeeded now. The boy was at once taken 
away from school, and allowed to devote himself to his 
chief interest, natural history. Chemical and physical 
analysis or botanical expeditions were his highest aim, 
and for two years he studied nothing but what belonged 
to those branches. After that he went through other 
necessary studies with a private master, and very 
quickly ; he began his medical studies after passing his 
second examination. As long as he was at home he 
only saw his sister when she came across to the apoth- 
ecary’s to see him, and, as their interests were entirely 
opposed, their intercourse became almost nil. Later 
on, the apothecary used to take him abroad with him 
in the holidays ; Edward was so clever at languages, 
which he certainly was not. It was not often, there- 
fore, that the brother and sister met in their holiday 
time. But from the time that, as a student, he had 
first travelled abroad with the apothecary, and she saw 
her brother come home, grown-up, with new fashions, 
both in ideas and in dress, energetic, full of life, a very 
ideal, especially a woman’s ideal of youth, from that 
time she had always secretly admired him. He, for his 
part, either overlooked her completely, or else teased 
her ; it cost her many an hour’s torture, but she swal- 
lowed it all, so as to be allowed to be where he was, 
even if only quietly in a corner. 

Ole understood her, though she never betrayed her- 
self. To him, too, she spoke seldom of Edward without 
calling him “ disgusting,” “ meddlesome,” “chatterbox,” 
etc., etc. But Ole’s faithful attention to her every 
time she sat there neglected by her brother, and with 
wounded feelings heaped up “ treasures” for him in her 
heart. 

A great change had taken place in Edward — his in- 


YOUTH. 


*>? 


quisitiveness had become a desire for knowledge, his 
restlessness was now energy. But at the same time his 
sister also underwent a change to an extent that he 
knew nothing about. It was exactly two years and a 
half since he had seen her last ; she had been in France 
and Spain for two years, and in the last holidays, when 
she was at home, he had been away travelling in Eng- 
land with the apothecary ; this year, too, they had been 
away for a couple of months. This sister whom he now 
met again was like a stranger to him. He was much 
taken up with her after their first meeting. 

She was not handsome, he told Ole, as soon as they 
two met (to Ole’s greatest astonishment). But he never 
wearied talking of the new and peculiar sort of impres- 
sion she produced up here among all the others. Their 
mother must surely have looked too much at some 
Spanish woman during the time before Josephine’s 
birth. If it had not been for that indescribable some- 
thing about the eyes which distinguishes one person 
from the other all the world over — if it had not been 
for that something about the eyes — she might very well 
have lived among Spaniards and been taken for their 
countrywoman. The effect of this in a Norwegian 
household may be imagined ! She talked well, rapidly, 
and to the point ; but, all the same, was rather silent — 
kept herself at a distance. She dressed conspicuously, 
liked bright colors, and was always in the height of fash- 
ion, thereby almost challenging people, but in all other 
respects she was timid and shv. 

From this time Edward really became a brother to 
her. Their father was away, and during his absence she 
lived at the head-master’s and was not always easily got 
at ; but whenever it was possible they were together. 
She had a feeling that he wanted to study her thor- 
oughly, so she was on her guard ; but it flattered her 
greatly that, whenever there was anyone present, his 
eyes always sought hers and he appealed to her in 
everything. 

While Ole, in deep distress, pressed his face down in 
the grass in the little wood where he lay, he could see in 
his mind’s eye Josephine at a ball, her brother dancing 
first with this one, then with the other— sometimes 


7 o 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


even several dances with the same partner, but with 
her only one little “ turn,” out of compassion. 

But now ? 

Now she had become a precious sister to Edward, 
and she and Ole were to be separated. 

Why should Edward break in upon and spoil their 
intercourse, he who knew so little about it ? — taking 
to himself all manner of rights which he did not in the 
least deserve ? Just after being together for a few days, 
was he to decide who was suitable for her to be with, 
and who was not? 

Why, before them all, had he thus attacked him, cast- 
ing scorn and derision on his calling in life ? — not only 
mocking him, but mocking God himself. 

As this thought passed through Ole Tuft’s mind, a 
strange and strong light seemed to rise up and spread 
over all the mountains far away on the other side of 
the bay. He felt it in the back of his neck as he lay 
there with his face buried in the grass. Then there 
seemed to come a whisper from over there, filling all the 
air around him, “ What hast thou done with me ? ” 

Oh ! how crushed he felt, he seemed forced down into 
the ground. Now he knew that his suffering was like 
a sharp razor cutting away all that was diseased out of 
his flesh. He had lost his cause to-day simply because 
he stood there as a liar. “ Thou shalt have no other 
gods but me ! ” No, no, forgive me, spare me ! “ Thou 

with thy vain, sensual dreams ! Let the night serve 
thee as it did Jacob, to wrestle with me, writhing worm 
that thou art ! ” 

The air around him seemed full of the sound of a 
thousand wings. 

It was not the first time that the solemnity of the Old 
Testament had come upon him from the heights and 
taken root in him. These questions of great or small ; 
as to whether he should hazard “the greatest” — or be 
contented, like everyone else, with mediocrity — this was 
nothing new to him. 

But were he to meet Josephine in good humor again, 
those questions would cease to exist, with one stroke of 
her hand she made them vanish. And such was the 
case now. Without any warning, it was as if a fresh 
protest from her came and overwhelmed him. Joseph- 


YOUTH. 


7 1 


ine would never have turned from him to-day because 
her brother wished it, never ! And if she had under- 
stood it in that way, she would have done just the oppo- 
site. No, she turned from him because he was such a 
poor creature — for nothing else. Perhaps, too, because 
she did not wish to be forced into a discussion, she was 
so very shy. Neither had she turned to her brother. 
She sat in the middle of the group in the garden, and 
later on, when they dined, she and a couple of girl friends 
had been at a separate table. And when the party broke 
up she had made no effort to be where her brother col- 
lected so many round him — why, in the world, had he 
not thought of that before? She was true to him ; upon 
my word, she was true and faithful ! He rose up ; w 7 hy, 
in the name of fortune, had he not seen that sooner?” 

He had washed that she w T ould help him one way or 
another — at least, w r ould comfort him and show him how 
sorry she was for him. But all that sort of thing was 
utterly opposed to Josephine’s nature. How could he 
even think of it ? Especially as there had been all this 
disturbance and everyone was on the lookout as to what 
she would do. 

He had been a great stupid. Delighted with this dis- 
covery, he hopped down through the wood and across 
the ditch, on his homeward way, after the others. 

Great heavens, how he loved her ! He saw her be- 
fore him as she was sometimes when she thought him 
too child-like ; through all her majesty he could always 
catch a good, kind look from her ! 

The late sunset left no red sky behind, the night was 
dull and gray, a deserted road winding down hill ; by 
the roadside were some small factories, the houses being 
up on the hill, poor places all of them, and a few shabby- 
looking summer villas here and there, low trees, and a 
few bushes spread about. 

He saw it all without seeing it, occupied as he was 
with his own thoughts. Not a soul on the road — yes, far 
off in the distance" was a solitary individual going toward 
the town. He slackened his pace so as not to overtake 
this person, and never noticed that besides that person 
walking in front of him was another advancing to meet 
him. At last he could distinguish one from the other. 
Surely — it could never be— was he mistaken ? No, he 


72 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


recognized the hat, and then the walk, the whole figure, 
there was only one such ! Josephine was coming back 
to fetch him ! It’was just like her. 

“But where have you been?” said she. Her large- 
featured face was flushed, her breath came quickly, her 
voice was rather hesitating, and the parasol she held in 
her left hand was not altogether steady. He did not 
answer ; he gazed at her face, her dress, the feather in 
her hat, her tall, fine figure, till involuntarily she smiled ; 
so much dumb admiration and gratitude would pierce 
through any kind of armor. “Josephine! Oh, Jose- 
phine!” Joy and admiration were reflected from the 
crown of his flat hat and down to his very boots. She 
went gaily up to him and laid her right hand on his 
left arm, pushing him gently forward ; he was to walk 
on. 

His face was all stained by the grass he had been bur- 
rowing in, she thought he had been crying : “ You are 
silly, Ole,” she whispered. 

Such a gray summer’s night, when nothing really 
sleeps nor yet is fully awake, gives one a strange, unsat- 
isfied feeling. For these two it was as would be a dimly 
lighted room for two who were secretly engaged. She 
allowed her hand to remain resting on his arm, and when 
his eyes met hers she looked at him as though watching 
over a child. 

“ You see, I thought,” said he, “ I thought, only fancy 
I thought — ” The tears stood in his eyes. 

“You are very silly, Ole,” whispered she again! 
And thus ended the storm of that day. 

Her hand still rested on his arm ; it looked as if she 
were leading him to prison. Fie could only just feel a 
very slight pressure, but it went to his very marrow. 
Now and then her silk dress just touched his leg, they 
were keeping step together, he seemed carried along by 
the electric current of her vicinity. They were utterly 
alone, and the silence round them was complete ; they 
could hear their own steps and the rustling of the silk 
dress. He kept the arm on which her hand lay, pain- 
fully quiet, half afraid that the hand might fall down 
and be broken. There was just this one drawback — 
for there must always be something not quite perfect, 
that he felt an ever-increasing guilty desire to take her 


YOUTH, 


73 


hand and tuck it under his arm in the usual way ; he 
could have pressed it then. But he dared not do it. 

They walked on and on. He looked upward and dis- 
covered there was no moon. “ There is no moon,” 
said he. 

“ It would have been lighter if there had been,” an- 
swered she, smiling. “ Much lighter.” Their voices 
had met and the sound of them mingled, floating to- 
gether like birds in the air. 

But just on that account they found it difficult to say 
more. As Ole walked along pondering over what he 
could venture to say next, he felt both touched and 
proud. He thought of that snowy Saturday evening 
long ago, when the other boys at school had treated him 
so badly, and he had fled away to Store-Tuft ; he thought 
of all his misery that day ; but his promotion as it were 
dated from then, he had walked into the town from 
the other side, but with her on his arm — stop though, 
not quite. There had been the same drawback .then 
too. 

Should he tell her ? Would she not think it too out- 
spoken. 

“ We are quite alone now, we too,” thus cunningly 
would he try to lead up to it ; but he could not depend 
on his voice, it would betray him. She did not answer 
him. Again there was a complete silence between them. 
Just fancy, then her hand of its own accord slipped 
quietly into his arm, in the usual way when two people 
are engaged. His whole frame quivered, and taking 
courage, he pressed it slightly ; but did not dare to look 
at her. They walked on. 

Soon the town lay before them as though under a 
veil, the ships’ rigging rising up like so many towers ; 
or like the pointed sort of rigging dredging ships al- 
ways have ; the houses stood in thick outline, no color- 
ing visible ; everything carefully packed up and put 
away, the mountains keeping guard over the whole. 
One long, faint, indistinct sound, a dull gleam through 
the dead-gray silence. “ Will you not tell me some- 
thing?” said she, rapidly, as though she could not pos- 
s\b\y get out more just then. He felt quite relieved at 
this, and asked her if he should tell her— about light. 

“ Yes, about light,” answered she ; was it ironical ? 


74 


I AT GOD'S IV AY. 


He began, but could not do it clearly. The very first 
time that she asked him for a clearer explanation he 
felt that he could not give it, he was not sufficiently at 
home with the subject. “No,” he said, “let me finish 
my story about Jeanne d’Arc ; you know we were inter- 
rupted yesterday." 

“Yes, let us take Jeanne d’Arc!” said she, merrily, 
and laughed. 

“ Do you not wish that ? ” 

“Yes, yes!” And she said that more kindly, as if 
wishing to make up for the first. Then he told her the 
end of Jeanne d’Arc’s story, as it was told in a newly 
published book which he had borrowed from her father 
in the holidays. This was a subject that suited him ; 
his west country accent, with the sing-song rise and fall 
in the voice, his carefully studied use of words, peculiar 
to one who had once been a peasant, heightened by the 
country dialect, though it no longer was so noticeable, 
impressed one with the idea that it was the words of 
some old writer ; his soft and gentle Melancthon-face 
was dreamy ; she looked up at him, and each time 
seemed to see deep down into his pure heart. 

And in this manner they reached the town. The 
story had taken a hold on her too, and they both be- 
came so eager that they were not aware that they might 
possibly meet someone, and that they now had houses 
on each side of them ; he just lowered his voice a little, 
but went on telling his story. 

But when they came near the street where his aunt 
lived, and up which he ought to turn, he stopped, with- 
out having finished his story. Would he be ahowed to 
take her home ? The head-master’s house was a little 
further on ; if not, then he ought to leave her here. 
Now, this was not a question of this evening only. 

Just on this account she thought of it too ; she had 
never approved of that sort of nonsense, of being taken 
to one’s own door when the other person’s way lay 
quite in an opposite direction. From their childhood 
she had always had the same feeling, because she had 
been teased about him. But she knew that for him it 
was a great treat. 

They both walked along the short bit of road that re- 
mained, and worked themselves up to a state of excite- 


YOUTH. 


75 


merit. Shall we say good-by here, or — ? What had orig- 
inally been so childish had now grown, by dint of 
repetition, to something of great importance. She could 
not account for it, but as they stood at the cross-roads, 
she quietly took her gloveless hand from his arm and 
offered it to him in farewell greeting. She saw his dis- 
appointment. And to make up for it her large eyes 
beamed on him, her hand grasped his heartily, and, 
“Thanks for a pleasant evening !” said she, in quite a 
different tone of voice from what she had used for the 
last few years. The words seemed to fly from heart to 
heart like a life-long promise, and such was their mean- 
ing. She thanked him now and always for his faithful 
love. He stood there, quite pale. She saw it, and 
seemed to meditate something — took her hand away, 
and went. On the hill, she turned again to look at him, 
thankful that neither by word nor deed had he tried to 
do anything but what she wished. She nodded to him, 
he raised his hat. 

A few minutes later she stood in her own room, much 
too warm and too wide-awake to think of going to bed. 
She did not wish to sleep ; at all events, she wanted first to 
see the sun on the roofs, or at least daylight. Her room 
looked out on the courtyard, the playground and gymna- 
sium at the end, some gymnastic apparatus stood outside 
too. Looked at from the street side, her bed-room was in 
the second story, but seen from the court it was on the 
first floor ; hundreds of times, as a child she had jumped 
out of the window instead of going out through the door. 
She opened the window, and even thought of jumping 
out r\ow and walking up and down the court. She 
would, in reality, have preferred walking about the 
whole night with Ole ; but he could not understand 
that. Perhaps it was because he had not proposed it 
that she had dismissed him up the street. 

But as she thought more about it, she did not dare to 
venture out into the yard. It happened sometimes that 
young men coming home from a country walk or a 
boating expedition, or jaunt of some kind, would take it 
into their heads, as they passed the old school-yard, to 
turn into the playground of their boyish days and have 
a swing on the ropes ; she would not like to meet those 
half-tipsy young men. She took off her hat, and re- 


7 6 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


mained standing in the window, leaning forward, gaz- 
ing out after what had just happened, and which seemed 
to draw her outward in spite of herself. 

She heard steps on the stairs outside, and then in the 
sand, the way in to her. Could it be Ole ? Was he 
sentimental enough to wish to look up at her window ? 
He must not come ! God help him if he did come ! 
She listened eagerly ; no— those steps were too rapid ; 
it was — s he knew it as he stood there, it was her brother. 

Yes, it was Edward who came. He was not astonished 
at seeing her, but came straight up to her. And when 
he had come up to the open window he stretched up his 
right hand to her, and she took it. His eyes squinted a 
little, a sure sign that he was excited. “ 1 am glad you 
are still up ; otherwise I should have been obliged to 
knock.” His eyes looked searchingly into hers, and 
he did not loose her hand. “ Have you just got back ? ” 

“Yes, just this moment.” All at once she felt herself 
to be in his power ; he might have questioned her about 
anything in the world and she would have answered, 
with those eyes of his looking at her like that. 

“When I saw you were no longer with the rest of the 
partv, I knew you had gone back to Ole.” 

“ Yes.” 

He stopped speaking, his voice shook : “ I behaved 
badly ; I suppose now you are engaged ? ” 

There was a pause, but her answer gleamed forth di- 
rectly in her eyes. “ I think so,” she said. 

Lovingly, yet full of grief, he gazed at her. She felt 
the greatest desire to cry aloud. Had she done wrong? 
She was dreadfully alarmed. Then he took her head 
between both his hands, and bending down, kissed her 
on the forehead. She burst into tears and clasped her 
arms tightly round his neck ; they lay thus cheek against 
cheek. 

“Well, well — if it is settled, then — I congratulate 
you, Josephine, dear Josephine.” They pressed closer 
to each other, then they parted. 

“ I leave to-day,” whispered he, taking hold of her 
hand ; she gave them both to him. 

“ To-day, Edward ? ” 

“ I have behaved stupidly. Good-by, Josephine.” 

She disengaged her hands to take her handkerchief 


YOUTH . 


77 


and press it to her face. “ I will come and say good- 
by,” she sobbed. 

“Don’t do that! No — not again ! ” And to get it 
over quickly, he embraced and kissed her once more and 
left her without once looking round. 


II. 

NEXT COUPLE FORWARD. 

In March of the following year, just as Edward Kal- 
lem was preparing to pass the second part of his medi- 
cal examination, he came across something else which 
completely occupied his thoughts. 

We must now tell* all about it. 

At the time when his desultory studies in natural his- 
tory concentrated themselves more and more on physi- 
ology, at that time the cleverest physiologist was a young* 
realistic student, Thomas Rendalen, somewhat older 
than Edward Kallem. In itself, it was seldom that a 
non medical student distinguished himself in that 
branch, so that everybody was struck by it, and of 
course Edward Kallem too ; but he did not on that ac- 
count become any closer acquainted with Rendalen, J 
who was not one of those who make themselves accessi- 
ble to all. 

It was later on, indeed not until after New Year (as 
they happened to be on the same steamer coming back 
after the Christmas holidays), that they got to know each 
other better. The first evening that Kallem went to see 
Thomas Rendalen in his own rooms, he stayed the night 
there. And a few evenings after, when Rendalen came 
to him, they kept going backward and forward be- 
tween the two lodgings (which were close together) till 
between three and four o’clock in the morning. Ed- 
ward Kallem had never before come across such a gen- 
ial sort of fellow, and Rendalen went up to him early 
one morning, before Kallem had gone out to the hospi- 
tal, just to tell him that of all his friends and acquaint- 
ances Kallem was the one he liked best. 

In reality Rendalen’s was a stronger nature than Kal- 


78 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


lem’s, a mixture of savagery and tameness, of passion, 
melancholy, and music, with great powers of communi- 
cativeness," but with recesses in his character which were 
seldom, if ever, opened. Unbounded energy — and then 
again so utterly devoid of power that he could do noth- 
ing ; the whole machinery was out of order, as though 
one of the wheels were broken. Not a single spot at 
right angles, nothing but irregularities on the whole 
landscape of his character ; but the light of a great 
mind was over the whole. However incalculable were 
the surroundings, or unpleasant the disappointments — 
his individuality, with its strict sense of justice, was so 
winning that one could not do otherwise than be fond 
of him. 

His chief concern was for all belonging to schools, and 
for education to its very centre ; to carry each separate 
child safe through the “dangerous age ” which comes at 
different times. Many suffered greatly at that time, 
wounds were made but not easily healed ; those who 
lived comfortably and in better circumstances could 
pass - the ordeal unhurt ; but they were hardly in the 
majority. All education and teaching was to be con- 
centrated in forming a good and moral man, that was 
his first and last thought. 

He was indefatigable in lecturing on ways and means 
of education ; in discussing all school arrangements and 
the work to be done in the homes. His mother owned 
a widely-known girls’ school in one of the towns on the 
coast, and he was anxious to take possession of it so as 
to be able to carry out his plans ! His great aim was a 
system of mixed schools ; but first the teaching of all the 
principal branches must undergo a change — be made 
easier, not suitable only for the most talented pupils. 
And he intended practising all this at the girls’ school. 

He possessed a tolerably large collection of school 
material from America and from several European coun- 
tries, and he kept on adding to it ; besides that, he owned 
a whole library of school literature. He lived together 
with one Vangen, a student of theology who had fin- 
ished his studies at Christmas, but was just going up for 
his practical examination ; but although between them 
they had three rooms, they were all three full of Ren- 
dalen’s library and collections. 


YOUTH. 


79 


His appearance was remarkable. Red-haired (but 
rather a light color) and the ends sticking up straight 
in t lie air, freckled, and with blinking gray eyes under 
white short-haired eyebrows which were hardly visible ; 
the nose was broad and rather turned up, the mouth 
pinched ; short, freckled hands, every finger denoting 
energy ; not tall, but splendidly made ; his walk, oil 
well turned out feet, was very light. Wherever he went 
he was the best of all gymnasts, and could climb the 
ropes like none other; Edward, too, who had always 
been fond of gymnastics, became doubly eager through 
his example ; for nothing could equal Rendalen’s power 
to win others for whatever he was fond of. At this 
time his great passion was walking on his hands ; Kal- 
lem could do this to his great admiration ; probably 
that put the climax to the respect that Rendalen had 
for him. 

They had many subjects in common ; they were both 
specialists, and both powerful in whatever they under- 
took ; modern in their way of thinking, and with the 
courage of reformers ; both were particular to the last 
degree about their persons ; they dressed with taste ; 
Rendalen, however, thought rather too much about it. 
Both had the same quick way of thinking, guessing in 
advance the half of what was said ; both in that way 
perfecting each other’s knowledge ! Rendalen was 
musical, played the piano in a most masterly way, and 
sang well. Kallem sang still better, and was encour- 
aged in it by Rendalen. 

^Although Rendalen could with heart and soul give 
himself up to one single object or individual, still there 
was a reserve about him which no one could penetrate. 
He was very fond of Vangen, his adopted brother ; but 
one could always see that there was a decided some- 
thing that kept them apart. In this respect Kallem was 
entirely to Rendalen’s satisfaction ; he too, in the midst 
of all his devotion to anyone, had the same kind of 
stand-offishness about him. 

But there was difference enough between them both 
to keep up the novelty of their intercourse, at the same 
time rendering it rather difficult. Nearly all the diffi- 
culties proceeded from Rendalen, for Kallem was more 
pliable and accommodating. When Rendalen was in 


8o 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


the humor, he would play by the hour together, just as 
though no one were in the room ; one might make up 
one’s mind to go away at once. He it was who always 
gave the keynote to all their moods. He was capri- 
cious and could have long spells of melancholy ; when 
one of these fits was on him few could get a word out 
of him. There was a marvellous power of work in him 
whenever he was taken up about anything that occu- 
pied his mind — and then suddenly, good-by to the 
whole thing! Were he in a communicative mood and 
really in good spirits, the very air around him seemed 
sparkling with electricity. 

For Kailem the study of medicine meant fresh dis- 
coveries daily, and on account of their mutual physio- 
logical studies they both faithfully interchanged ideas, 
each from his side. During the months of January and 
February they met nearly every evening; at any rate, 
at the gymnasium from six to seven o’clock ; after that 
they would often sup together — oftenest at Rendalen’s 
rooms, as he had a piano. 

In the early part of March Rendalen’s mother came 
to pay him a visit ; she lodged with her son’s landlord, 
a new-comer to the town. He was a native of Norland, 
blind and paralysed down one side, and had an exces- 
sively musical wife ; she was very young, in fact almost 
a child — the strangest couple imaginable. Rendalen 
often spoke of them. As long as his friend’s mother 
was in town, Kailem kept away ; each time they left the 
gymnasium, Kailem could see that Rendalen did not 
wish to have him with him. But when, after a stay of 
eight days or so, the mother went home again, still 
things did not change ; either Rendalen went on with 
his gymnastics longer than Kailem, or else he left after 
a very few exercises ; it was clear that he did not wish 
for Kallem’s company. The latter thought that he was 
in one of his melancholy moods. 

But one morning, Kailem having come home earlier 
than usual (as a rule he was out the whole forenoon), 
he heard the bell ring, the servant open the door, and 
then Rendalen’s footstep in the passage. He came in 
hurriedly, was gloomy and taciturn ; his business was 
— should they change lodgings ? 

Kailem knew him so well now, and was so good-nat- 


YOUTH. 


8r 


ured, thnt he did not show the least surprise, and never 
even asked his reasons for wishing to change ; lie only- 
said that his two small rooms would surely not be large 
enough for Rendalen’s collections and his piano — and 
for Vangen ? Or, were he and Vangen no longer going 
to live together? Yes, they were! But there was a 
large room adjoining Kallem’s two rooms, and for long 
Retidalen had had his eye on that. He knew the land- 
lady would be glad to let it. It would suit him per- 
fectly. Only fancy what it would be to play in that 
large room ! 

“ Have you spoken now to the landlady about it ? ” 

“No, but I am just going to her,” and off he rushed. 
They both came back together, the landlady and he ; a 
few minutes after, all was settled ! In the afternoon 
they moved ! When the good-natured Vangen came 
hurrying home from his dinner, there sat Kallem in 
dressing-gown and slippers in the first room to the 
right, and announced to him that Rendalen had gone 
to live in Sehested Street, where he, Kallem, used to 
live ; they had changed lodgings. They both laughed* 

“And yet he was very comfortable here,” said Van- 
gen ; but that was the only remark he made. 

Of course Edward Kallem speculated much on the 
reason of this hurried move, and thought he would have 
a good talk with the servant each time she came to see 
to the stove or to bring in his lunch or supper, both 
which meals he took at home ; she looked as if she 
knew something. Marie had a peculiar smile that 
seemed to say : “ Oh, I know the lot of you — you too, 
you rogue.” He got that, the very first time she open- 
ed the door for him. She had eyes that were more 
than half covered by the lids which hung over them in 
folds. The nose was a turn-up and seemed to drag the 
mouth upwmrd into a stiff smile, the upper lip project- 
ed, showing a row of teeth for which there was hardly 
room, they glistened through each smile. Everything 
she said seemed to have a hidden meaning of fun and 
nonsense, it shot forth from under her eyelids and played 
about the corners of the mouth. The voice was a soft 
one. Otherwise a steady girl, well made, clever as old 
Nick himself, but prudent and cautious both in speech 
and ways, for all her laughing criticisms. But her laugh 
6 


82 


IN GOD’S W AY. 


seemed always on the lookout for one. When he said : 
“ i am Edward Kallem, I am to live in Rendalen’s 
room,” she answered, smilingly : “ Oil ! ” just as if she 
had known all his secrets from the time he was a boy. 
If he mentioned Rendalen, she looked as if she had a 
whole room full of jokes about him ; and yet — he never 
got anything out of her. 

The house where he lived now was a corner house, 
almost opposite the university. The door of the house 
was in the same street into which Kallem’s rooms looked 
too. They were on the second floor and had the same 
entrance as his landlord had ; that is to say, one of the 
rooms — the other one, his bed-room, had its own private 
entrance. Rendalen had had a third room, the corner 
room further in. Kallem put his card on the door lead- 
ing into the little hall, below a large door-plate bear- 
ing the name of Soren Rule ; that was the landlord’s 
name ! Next day being Sunday, he went to call on 
him. 

There sat the paralysed, blind man in a large roller- 
chair. The unfortunate man was still young, barely 
over thirty, very heavily built, and heavy both in face 
and in speech. His very “ Come in ! ” when Kallem 
knocked, was heavy. Kallem introduced himself, the 
other sat immovable and answered slowly : “ Indeed, I 
am blind. And I can’t move about much either.” This 
was said with a Norland accent ; each syllable jerked 
out and jogging heavily along like a London brewer’s 
dray-horse. It was a clever, but full, large-featured 
face ; he came probably of a healthy race. Kallem was 
sufficiently a doctor to be able to see at once why he 
was paralysed and blind. A quantity of engravings and 
photographs from Spain, hanging on the walls, gave him 
the idea that it was probably there he had received as a 
gift what that most gallant people distribute with such 
hospitality. 

“ Won’t you sit down ?” he said, at last. His healthy 
side brisked up as he turned and looked toward a 
door to the left : “ Ragni ! ” he called. Nobody an- 
swered and nobody came. His voice, as well as his 
seeming indifference and stolid quiet, seemed to make 
the silence duller. Kallem sat there and looked about 
him. Were those children’s toys? It seemed to him 


YOUTH. 83 

surely he heard children’s voices ? Were there children 

here f 

“ Ragni ! ” repeated he once more, slowly. Then, 
more gently : “ Perhaps they are in the kitchen busy 
with the dinner.” 

Again the same dull, heavy silence ; the sound of 
bells from the street broke through it for a moment, but 
only to make it all the more evident afterward. The 
furniture was too heavy and dark for a small Norwegian 
room in winter ; and it was faded and worn. The en- 
gravings and photographs were in large frames, which, 
however, did not fit very well, so that both dust and 
damp had got in and spoilt the paper. The children’s 
toys and a piano were the most noticeable things ; the 
piano seemed to be perfectly new and by one of the 
best Parisian makers, it was certainly a concert-grand. 
“ Your wife plays so beautifully ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Kallem knew that she had devoted herself to the 
study of music since she was a child, and just to find 
something to talk about he took up the subject. “ She 
has studied at the conservatoire in Berlin ?” 

“ Yes.” 

There was a noise of chairs being pushed about in 
the room to the right, the one adjoining the corner 
room. Kallem then took that up as a subject for con- 
versation. “ I hear I am to have a neighbor in the cor- 
ner room ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ A relation of yours, I believe ? ” 

“ Yes, an aunt.” 

Again Soren Kule looked to the left, and called out 
in an indifferent sort of way : “ Ragni ! ” Nobody an- 
swered and nobody came. “ I fancied I heard a door 
open outside,” he said, as though apologizing for having 
called. Kallem got up then and said good-by. 

A few days afterward he gave Rendalen an amusing 
description of his visit. Rendalen laughed ; he had 
not often been there himself ; but had heard much 
about Soren Kule. He declared the fellow might go 
to the devil for him, he would rather not talk about 
him at all ; he sat down to the piano and began to 
play. 


8 4 


IN GOD’S IV AY. 


A few days later, who should Kallem meet in the en- 
trance but his brother-in-law in spe, Mr. Ole Tuft, now 
candidate in theology, come to town to pass his so-called 
practical examination. 

Grand meeting and recognition ! The one had no 
idea of the change of lodgings that had taken place, nor 
the other that Ole Tuft had come to town. Kallem 
begged him to go in with him, and heard then that Tuft 
was there for the first time ; the landlord’s aunt had 
moved in yesterday, and it was her Ole had been visit- 
ing. Edward Kallem understood at once what com- 
munity she belonged to, and he changed the subject. 
He asked further whether he knew Soren Kule ? No, 
only through hearing of him from his aunt; all the fam- 
ily were from the Norland. Then who was Soren Kule ? 
He was a well-to-do fish-dealer who became blind and 
partially paralysed ; was obliged to sell his business and 
had bought this house in Christiania to make a living by 
it and by other things as well. They had several relations 
in town, and had only been there since October. Did 
Ole Tuft know what had caused his paralysis and blind- 
ness ? No. Kallem told him there could hardly be a 
doubt on the matter. Ole Tuft was quite shocked. 

“ How could he dare marry then ? And twice.” 

“ Has he been married twice?” 

“ Yes, he married a second time about six months or 
a year ago — his late wife’s sister.” 

“ Then the children are by the first wife ?” 

“Yes. But the present wife is hardly more than a 
child herself ; just fancy, she is eighteen and has been 
married nearly a year ! ” 

Was he like tliis when he married again ?” 

“No, I think not. He was in ill-health but not so bad 
as now. There are not many who can understand how 
it came about ? ” 

“ Have you seen her ?” 

“No, but my aunt says she is a delicate little creature, 
and very musical. She has played in public.” 

“Indeed, up in the north?” 

“ They are said to be so very critical up there.” Then 
he began again on the subject of the marriage. “The 
parents probably arranged it for the children’s sake.” 

Kallem very nearly answered, “Then, of course, they 


YOUTH. 85 

are clergy folk ;” blit he recollected in time. He only 
said : “ One can’t accuse her of being too particular.” 

They conversed a little on indifferent subjects ; no 
mention was made of Josephine. Shortly after Ole 
went in to find his aunt, whom he had come to call 
upon. As it happened Kallem was at home that fore- 
noon and he heard the landlord’s wife play. She began 
with scales and scales and still more scales ; but then 
came a piece so wonderfully well executed that he set 
his door ajar so as to hear better. Her playing was more 
like singing. How in all the world could a woman 
young like she, and full of artistic and lyric feeling, 
marry such a mass of corruption ? Here was a problem 
which he would have had Rendalen solve, but Rendalen 
knew nothing. However, he was in good spirits that 
day, spoke in raptures about her playing; there was 
not so much power in it but it was full of song, and a 
poetical charm of coloring which was unequalled. He 
could play a Russian piece of her’s, “ after a fashion ” 
he added ; he played it perfectly. Kallem wanted to 
know something about her appearance. 

“She looks — stupid!” cried he. “God forgive me 
for saying it — stupid ! Her forehead might possibly 
save her, but she hides it entirely with her hair. I said 
so to her ; ‘Up with your hair,’ said I. Her eyes, too, 
might save her. But never in my life have I seen any- 
one so shy about her eyes.” 

“ Has she good eyes ? ” 

“ Good heavens, her eyes are of the many-voiced 
kind ! Some eyes sing as it were in unison or at the 
most for two voices ; but some there are that send forth 
chords of bright harmony. If she looks up when she is 
playing you Will feel it ! But generally her eyes are on 
a level with the feet of the table, or piercing holes in 
the corners, or setting the stove alight. Sometimes, 
though, they dash up high along the walls like a rat that 
cannot escape!” He was amused at his own de- 
scription and began to play a Hailing.* “Wonderful 
that such a musical nature can — come, we must not be 
sentimental, old fellow !’\ He intended going to the 
theatre and took Kallem with him. 

A week passed and still Kallem had not seen her, al- 

* A Norwegian country-dance. 


86 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


though he had tried what he could to bring it about. 
But he was out at a dance one night— the son of the 
house was a fellow-student of his — the latter came up 
to him whilst a “tour d’inclination ” was going on, 
bringing two ladies with him, and asked Kallem whether 
he would choose the “kernel of a nut ” or a “dog- 
rose ? ” This was not particularly clever, but he chose 
the “dog-rose.” This “dog-rose” had a musical fore- 
head and prettily arched eyebrows ; otherwise she was 
silent and insignificant. Rather tall, with sloping 
shoulders, pretty arms, not actually fat but well-shaped ; 
the same might be said of her whole person. She 
danced well, but seemed as if she wished to get away 
from him as quickly as possible ; he brought her back 
to her place without her having so much as looked at 
him. He was much surprised therefore when she came 
and fetched him out in the next “tour.” Probably she 
only knew very few people and those few were very 
likely engaged. She looked about her shyly and then 
came forward with timid steps and curtsied ; still she 
did not look up, she seemed positively afraid, and so it 
struck him he would be kind and sit down beside her. 
But whatever he said to her she never answered any- 
thing but “yes,” “no,” “indeed,” “perhaps,” which 
soon proved too much of a good thing for so-much- 
sought-after a cavalier as he ; so he left her. Again he 
was offered his choice between the “nut-kernel ” which 
he had despised and a “ bon-bon,” and this time he 
chose the “ nut-kernel.” He liked her much better ; 
she was a lively, round, little thing, and spoke with a 
mixture of Norland and Bergen accent. He soon 
learned that her father was a native of Bergen, but was 
now a clergyman in the Norland district. She was stay- 
ing here in town with her sister, and very often went to 
balls ; for they had so many relations — her voice rose 
and fell in true Norland fashion ; but unfortunately she 
would soon have to be going home again ; they were 
nervous about her up there in the north ; nor did the 
old parents like to be left alone. Of course Kallem 
did the polite and pretended to be highly amused ; they 
became such good friends that — She told him with a 
great flow of words how she had come to town so as to 
help her sister to get settled ; her sister was not at all 


YOUTH. 


87 

practical, which she was ; she could do nothing but play 
the piano, that sister of hers ; she had been accustomed 
to it since her childhood, and had studied two years in 
Berlin. Then Kallem became all attention, and it 
turned out that her sister was the partner he had danced 
with first and had thought so tiresome ; his landlady, 
Fru Ragni Kule ! The “nut-kernel,” it must be ob- 
served, was not her real sister ; they were children of 
different marriages. And the “nut-kernel” was not 
the eldest, as he had imagined ; on the contrary, her sis- 
ter was nearly nineteen, and she was a little more than 
seventeen. 

Immediately he went and danced witli Fru Kule, and 
remarked with much surprise that she was his landlady. 
Was she aware of that ? Was that why she had chosen 
him to dance with before ? She felt as if she were taken 
in the act of committing a crime, but could think of no 
excuse to make. “ But why did you not tell me who 
you were ?” continued he, insisting. 

She felt still more overwhelmed by this fresh sin of 
having kept silence, and could not possibly get out a 
word. Then he said, rather rudely and impatiently: 

“ Perhaps you have some difficulty in speaking ? ” 

She turned very pale ; there was something unspeak- 
ably unhappy in her startled look. His rudeness was 
the natural consequence of his contempt for anyone 
who could lower themselves by such a marriage as hers 
was. But his sympathy was so thoroughly aroused by 
her pallor and helplessness that he hastened to say : 
“ To be sure, I know that you possess the gift of a lan- 
guage which is easier for you than for most people — ” 
and so he talked on in an easy, natural way about her 
music, made her sit down, told her that he had heard 
her play, and that Rendalen was such a competent 
judge ; he turned the conversation upon all the world- 
renowned artists he had ever heard, and succeeded in 
making her join in ; of course she had heard so many 
of them. By degrees she gained so much confidence 
that she even ventured to ask after Rendalen ; she had 
not seen him at all since he had moved. He was all 
right, and then he described all Rendalen’s peculiari- 
ties till she was obliged to laugh. She did not look 
“ stupid ” when she laughed, far from it. For a mo- 


88 


IN GOD'S I V A Y. 


ment, too, there was a gleam in the eyes as of “ many 
rays.” 

“Why did Rendalen move?” asked she, and there 
was something of the singing Norland accent in her 
voice too, but less that in her sister’s. It was rather a 
weak voice, but at the same time so very sweet. He 
answered her with a question. But no, she knew noth- 
ing ; and then she looked full at him ; those were eyes ! 
“ Was it about the room ?” 

“ About the room ?” repeated he. 

“Yes, I mean when he heard that my aunt wanted to 
live here — my husband’s aunt,” she added, correcting 
herself, and suddenly she became shy again. 

“ Had they given him notice to leave ? ” 

“No, certainly not.” 

“Then he could not possibly be offended.” 

She quite agreed to that too. But Rendalen had 
never even been to say good by. She never quite got 
rid of her shyness ; it suited her though, as sometimes 
a veil can suit a face. 

“Did you see much of his mother?” 

“Yes,” said she, and smiled. 

“ Why do you smile ?” 

“ Well, perhaps it is hardly right of me, but she was 
so like a man.” She was ashamed after she had said 
this, and would gladly have taken back her words ; she 
had only meant that she was such a clever woman. 
But Kallem began joking her about it ; she was forced 
to laugh again, and, as before, said it was sweet to see 
and hear her laugh. “You see you can talk!” She 
glanced up at him ; was he making fun of her ? Sud- 
denly he remembered that Rendalen had told her she 
ought to wear her hair off her forehead, and it was off 
tiiis evening ! Oh-ho ! 

She was really very pretty ! To think of his not hav- 
ing found it out at once ! And to think that others had 
not seen it and spoken about it. It was true that her 
face was undeveloped and child-like, and the slender fig- 
ure rather too thin. Her forehead was lovely ; the eye- 
brows were delicately arched, but they were fair and not 
strongly marked. There was a difficulty in getting a 
look at the eyes ; but now he knew that they were so 
confiding in all their gray-blue shyness, and they spoke 


y ob nr. 


89 


volumes. Cheeks, chin, and mouth were soft and unde- 
cided ; the latter always slightly open ; it was short, too, 
which made it so “ sweet.” The nose was nothing much, 
but it was slightly crooked. Her hair was not very 
thick, but it had a pretty reddish shade in it. But her 
complexion ! It was so dazzingly white one could not 
take one’s eyes from it. once one had found it out ; but 
the thing was, one did not notice it unless the colour of 
the dress helped one or the light was dim ; she wore no 
ornaments, not even a bracelet. The wrists were such 
as would belong to long, narrow hands, which he would 
have liked to see. “ So you love music more than any- 
thing else ? ” 

“Yes,” answered she, “it is all that I can do.” She 
looked down. He wondered what there was he might 
question her on that would not make her feel ashamed. 
But he had better have a care — there he sat falling in 
love as fast as he could. Unfortunately he was obliged 
to leave her to go and dance with, and talk to, others. 
As soon as he left her it was as though he would never 
find her again ; she seemed to become invisible. He 
came back to her as soon as he could for propriety’s 
sake. She evidently did not object ; she was a little 
more confiding, even looked at him once or twice and 
smiled right up into his eyes. Fancy that ! It was more 
than Rendalen could have aspired to. His falling in 
love began through her being so shy, and increased as 
she became more confiding. He asked if be might be 
allowed to see the ladies home. Surely he had a better 
right to it than anyone else as she was his landlady. 
She accepted his offer at once ; she never hesitated. It 
was true, she said, that her nephew, the young man who 
had first offered Kallem the choice between a “nut- 
kernel ” and a “ dog-rose ” was going with them too, but 
that they could both come. 

•“ Yes, of course we can !” said he gayly, thinking se- 
cretly that the nephew should take charge of the “nut- 
kernel.” 

It was a thick, dark evening, the snow falling slightly. 
The star-like snow-flakes floated slowly and singly down 
as though each one had its own place and was bent on a 
special errand ; not a breath of wind came to disturb 
them. Both ladies were well wrapped up and had Lap- 


90 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


lander shoes on. The music and dancing were still in 
full swing when they met, and there was much merry 
laughter among all the young people on the stairs and in 
the corridors ; outside was the noise of bells from the 
sledges come to fetch the guests. The “nephew,” be- 
ing the host of the evening, could not leave so early; 
but lie found someone to take his place ; this other 
young man gave his arm to his lady, and they set off 
down hill at a run ; but when Kallem would have done 
the same his young landlady was frightened and clung 
to him, as she was forced along running, and begged and 
implored him not to do it. It was just as though she 
did not see properly. He stopped and asked if that 
were the case. No ; but she was so terribly afraid of 
falling. 

“ You seem to be nervous and timid altogether.” 

“Yes, I know I am,” said she, truthfully. She was 
sweet enough, but in reality a bit of a prude. Then 
they walked on for a while in silence ; they could see 
nothing of the other two. Bah ! thought he, there is no 
use being offended, I suppose she can’t help it. “ It is 
not one o’clock yet,” said he. 

“ No, but the youngest child is not very well ; the 
servant is sitting up with her, but she has to get up early 
to-morrow morning.” The North-country sing-song in 
her voice seemed to carry him far away out to sea. 

“ I miss the open sea so much now in the winter,” 
said he ; “ here everything is ice-bound. I suppose it 
is always so in the West.” 

She told him that when she was at Berlin, and par- 
ticularly after she had been playing, she could almost 
hear the sea at times. “ But is it not a delightful thing 
that the sea always freshens one up when one is near it, 
and makes one melancholy when one thinks of it?” 
Just then something came driving past them at great 
speed ; they had to get out of the way and she pulled 
him with her to the extreme edge of the road, as three 
sledges, one after the other, dashed past them at a terrific 
rate. 

They continued their walk, listening to the sleigh 
bells as they died away in the distance ; again there was 
that complete silence necessary to attract attention to 
the falling snow-flakes. 


YOUTH. 


9 1 


“ One ought really never to talk whilst snow is fall- 
ing,” said she. 

Then the other two waited for them and the conver- 
sation was kept up for a time by the “ nut-kernel ” and 
the two gentlemen, till they came to a hill which the 
first couple took at full speed. By and by they saw 
them again through the veil of snow, but could hear 
nothing of them. But as the street became more in- 
habited, and the traffic greater, the couples kept closer 
together, and there was an end to all that had been 
amusing in their walk. 

After that evening his impression of her seemed like 
a part of nature’s scenery ; she was blended with the 
starry snow-flakes ; never had he met or seen anything 
so white and so pure. All that she had said about the 
sea and the falling snow was full of musical imagina- 
tion ; at last her whole person was enveloped in a sort 
of dim haze. As each of these pearls of first impres- 
sions rose up from the depths of his soul, his every sense 
seemed to be enamoured. He seemed to feel her pres- 
ence in all the rooms ; he started every time a door was 
opened ; and if there came a soft footstep along the 
passage he thought it was hers ; he felt it through his 
whole being. He was really rather afraid of meeting her 
again, in case the picture should lose its charm. And 
that was exactly what happened. Five or six days after, 
as he was coming out of the university, he met her with 
her sister and two little children ; the street was crowded, 
so he neither saw nor recognized them till they were 
quite close. He bowed ; the “ nut-kernel ” smiled and 
returned his bow, but her sister blushed very red and 
forgot to bow : at that moment she looked anything 
but clever. He stopped to thank them for the pleasant 
evening the}'' had spent together, and began talking to 
the one sister ; the other bent down to the children — 
two sweet little girls, dressed out like dolls, one about 
three, the other four years old. He invited them into a 
confectioner’s for refreshments ; the offer was accepted 
after a good deal of hesitation ; but the married sister 
never raised her eyes, and he could hardly induce her to 
sit down. Out of pure shyness and uneasiness she 
worried the children so that they became impatient. 
He offered them cakes and wine ; but she could not 


9 2 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


make up her mind what she would have, and at last al- 
lowed her sister to choose. Her face was framed in by 
a bonnet with silk flaps ; the forehead quite disap- 
peared, and her face became round and insignificant ; 
her figure was concealed by clothes which were all 
much too large for her (he heard later that they had 
belonged to her late sister). It was only when he be- 
gan to notice the children — he had a wonderful gift that 
way, for he was fond of children — that they really made 
friends again ; it happened down on the floor, too, be- 
cause the youngest child had made a terrible mess of 
itself with a cake full of whipped cream, which the 
mother had most injudiciously chosen for it. There 
they were now, both drying the child with their pocket- 
handkerchiefs, and the mother thanking him over and 
over again, with a guilty feeling that it had been her 
fault. The child, who so blissfully had made itself in such 
a mess, asked for more cake of the same kind and would 
not be content with any other ; and Kallem (though he 
knew it was not good for the child to have so much) read- 
ily agreed to it ; but he took the'child on his lap, asked 
for a napkin, and watched carefully over it until the last 
bite had disappeared. She stood by humbly taking a les- 
son. Then the child asked for another cake, to which 
Kallem also agreed. Then the eldest of the two, who 
had patiently been watching her sister eat her cakes, now 
ventured to ask for one ; sp he took her up on his other 
knee and fed them both. Everybody enjoyed them- 
selves thoroughly while this important business was go- 
ing on ; even Fru Kule joined in the laugh. And as be- 
fore said, when she laughed she was very “sweet.” The 
three grown-up ones drank each another glass of wine, 
and as they walked home Kallem carried the young- 
est child in his arms. He became fast friends with the 
little thing ; her stepmother was more courageous after 
she had had her wine, and said : “ Is she not a dear wee 
thing, my little Juanita?” She stretched her hand up to 
the child, who took it in her thick little glove, and kept 
tight hold of it as they walked along. 

He carried the little one up-stairs, and was careful to 
show her where his room was, and invited them both to 
come and pay him a visit the next day, which was Sun- 
day. Directly after his dinner he went out and bought 


YOUTH. 


93 


some oranges, apples, figs, and other dried fruits, so as 
to have something for them when they came. 

“ Is she not a dear wee thing, my little Juanita ? ” This 
sentence, with a little of her north-country sing-song in 
it, he set to music and went about humming it every 
time he thought of her. Her voice, her eyes looking 
up at the child, and her hand stretched out to it, were 
all part of the melody ! “ Is she not a dear wee thing, 

my little Juanita?” became the refrain of his life ; he 
taught it to Rendalen, too ; they greeted each other 
with it when they met at the gymnasium in the even- 
ings. But Edward Kallem kept to himself the notion 
he had that she had been so shy because she had met 
him again — perhaps because it was broad daylight. He 
mentioned, too, that she looked so funny in the clothes 
that were so much too large for her ; they seemed to 
have been made for a young, growing girl ; but he never 
said a word about how uneasy she had grown when he 
looked at her in the confectioner’s shop. 

The children often came to see him ; he gave them 
oranges and candied fruit, and walked on his hands and 
jumped over the chairs, and they were all tremendously 
happy. But the servant spoilt everything ; he could 
distinctly read the following in her smile : “You are a 
rogue ! You are doing all this for their mother’s sake.” 

He was coward enough to tell her that the children 
were not to come to him for a while. It cut him to the 
heart as he sat there the following evening and heard 
how the eldest one opened the door to the passage to 
run in to him, but was caught and carried back crying. 
He rang for the servant and told her to give the chil- 
dren the remains of what he had bought for them. She 
took the things from him but said : “ Is it not too 
much?” and looked at him with a cunning smile ; he 
could have beaten her. But then he thought to him- 
self, “ If she suspects me no matter what I do, then 
the children may just as well come!” And the next 
evening he fetched them in himself from the kitchen. 

One day he met her sister, who was going out. She 
nodded brightly to him and said : “ Thanks for our last 
treat ! Fancy,” she added, “ in a few days I am going 
away.” 

Then he suggested that it would be quite the correct 


94 


IN GOD'S WAV. 


thing for them to go and have a little farewell feast at 
the confectioner’s. She agreed with him, and they set- 
tled that they would all meet the next day, the children 
too, and have it all over again just like the last time. 
And so they did. Fru Kule was not quite so shy as the 
other day, Kallem himself was in the best of spirits, and 
the children were uproarious. He was full of the wild- 
est, maddest love fancies as they went merrily home — 
he dancing along with Juanita on his head, and teach- 
ing the sisters to sing, “Is she not a dear wee thing, 
my little Juanita ? ” 

He was at the railway station the day the sister was 
to leave.- Several of their relations and friends were 
there to say good-bye. Both the sisters were very un- 
happy ; the one to be left behind perhaps the most so ; 
she wept unceasingly, even after the train had gone. 
For a moment he thought of going away and leaving 
the relations alone together, but she said: “Oh, no, 
don’t go ! ” And yet there was no reason for her wish- 
ing him to stay ; she walked home beside him and the 
others, crying all the way ; and when the others left 
them and went their own way, and he and she stood be- 
fore their door, she could find nothing to say, but just 
went on up*stairs. On the stairs he asked her if she and 
the children would like to go for a drive ; it might 
cheer her up a little. She only shook her head. “ To- 
morrow perhaps ? ” asked he, respectfully, as he opened 
the door for her. She went in, but came back to say, 
“Thank you, to-morrow ! ” gave him her hand and a 
look from her dear eyes full of tears. 

He fancied he could tell from her deep distress that 
she must feel lonely. Not perhaps in everyday life, 
because her imagination kept her time occupied ; but 
when anything out of the common happened, rousing 
her and awakening her from her dreams, then she would 
look around and see that she was forsaken. 

The next day he took her and the children out in a 
sledge and drove them himself. After the drive he 
went in to see Kule, who thanked him in his heavy sort 
of way for being so kind to the children. They showed 
Kallem all their toys, and Kule asked his wife to play a 
piece when the children were sent away ; he sat him- 
self, smoking a long pipe, which his wife usually had 


YOUTH. 


95 


to fill for him ; Kallem had done it now in her stead. 
Kallem saw then, for the first time, a stout kitchen-maid, 
an elderly, masculine-looking woman, who sang in a 
northern dialect, like birds shrieking over the sea. She 
was both cook and Rule’s attendant. Apparently the 
wife was allowed entire liberty in whatever concerned 
herself, that is to say, the children and her music. At this 
moment she was playing that same piece by the Russian 
composer which he had heard from his own room, and 
perhaps better. Not because he was particularly at- 
tentive ; he was looking at her. The upper part of the 
face now flashing down over the keys and music was 
very different to how he knew it ; probably it was like 
this Rendalen had seen her. How much she would 
have to go through before the lower part of the face 
was equally developed ? A few days ago he had had a 
letter from a cousin who lived at Madison, in Wiscon- 
sin ; he had been made professor at the university 
there, and his wife, a Norwegian lady, studied under 
him. Something of the kind would be necessary to 
bring life and shape into these dull cheeks and weak 
chin, that vacillating mouth with the cracked lips. But 
how touching it was to see all this child-like depend- 
ence. Close by he saw the husband’s huge hands rest- 
ing on the arm of his chair — he lay back in the chair 
like a dead river-god in breeches. Whilst she was play- 
ing, the door to the right was opened, and in came the 
third supernatural, north-country being, an old lady 
with white hair, a large round face, and horn spectacles ; 
this was the aunt, she was taller than Kallem, and stout 
in proportion to her height. The young wife moved about 
amongst them like a pleasure-yacht among Atlantic 
steamers laden to sinking-point. She looked upon 
Kallem now as an intimate friend, although she had prob- 
ably not confided in him at all ; but their mutual youth 
sought to conspire against all that was a hindrance and 
hard to bear. In his love for her he grew impatient, 
longing to set her free ; the thought that he could not 
do it made the air of the room seem quite oppressive. It 
distressed him greatly, this incomprehensible connection. 

The impressions he received from this visit disturbed 
him in his studies for his examination, which, until that 
day, had been very regular. 


9 6 


IN GOD'S VV. AY. 


He formed the wildest of plans, even wrote over to 
his cousins in America, and asked if they could receive 
a young lady to live with them. He confided in Ren- 
dalen, who at first protested angrilv ; but at last Kallern 
convinced him. Her feeling of individual responsibility 
ought to be aroused, she ought to be shown the dangers 
of continuing her present life ; above all, she ought to 
be sent away, far away, where she would have free- 
dom of thought and liberty to develop. . . . Kallern 

gained more and more assurance, and his love grew 
stronger from all this self-imposed solicitude. Each 
time he met her, however short were the meetings, even 
though he only bowed to her on the street or in the cor- 
ridor, strengthened him in the conviction that she was 
his, and his only, and must be set free ! 

This was before he had said a word to her about it. 

Often before had he been in love, and often had pre- 
tended without its being the real thing ; but now he had 
a longing to save, and then re-form, all that was so 
pure yet so undeveloped, so talented and yet so forlorn, 
it lay in his disposition, this desire, and he gave him- 
self up to it with all his soul. She, for her part, lost 
somewhat of her shyness each time they met ; it seemed 
as though he really were a comfort to her after her sister 
left ; indeed, unless he were much mistaken, he was even 
more than that. At all events, there was one unmistak- 
able sign ; he had told her that he stayed at home in the 
evenings on purpose to hear her play, and that he left 
his door ajar the better to hear ; now she played every 
evening and often for a long time. 

When he met her out with the children, and took them 
to the confectioner’s, he had the greatest desire to speak 
out ; but her manner prevented it. It was her trustful 
innocence that was the principal hindrance, and he 
dared not startle her. All the energy in him drove him 
to action ; but his love for her lent itself to her wish for 
a poetical pastime where love might not be mentioned, 
although everything was symbolical of it. There was a 
charm about their intercourse the like of which he had 
never experienced. 

On a certain evening, once every week, she took part 
in a private concert, or something of the kind, at the 
house of some of her husband’s relations, the same house, 


YOUTH. 


97 


in fact, where she had gone to that dance. Kallem made 
his way in to these evenings, through his fellow-student, 
her nephew. Of course he went there solely and en- 
tirely so as to be able to walk home with her at night. 
At this time the snow was gone and the streets were full 
of ice. When he told her that he was going to be there, 
too, and would be allowed to see her home (at which 
she was very pleased), it was an understood thing that 
he always had either a sledge or carriage for her. 

They were about to start for home after a long even- 
ing when there had been a great deal too much music 
for those small rooms ; she hastened to get on her wraps 
and get away. Here he took her arm. “ It is fortunate,” 
said he, “that the moon is just up.” She thought they 
would have got into one of the sledges that stood wait- 
ing there, or into a carriage that just then drove up ; 
she gave a little scream, as it was quite smooth ice just 
by the door, yet she went on bravely. Meanwhile they 
passed by one sledge after the other, and the carriage, 
too. None seemed to be theirs. “ Are we not going 
to drive ? ” asked she. The rogue laughed ; it was he 
who had planned this walk. She tried to hide her dis- 
appointment ; but, after a few vain efforts, begged to be 
allowed to drive. Then he recollected how frightened 
she had been that first time ; his conscience pricked him, 
and he declared they would go to the very first stand, 
which was not far off. The road was not so very slip- 
pery, but it was steep ; she clung to his arm, staring 
nervously before her, with an occasional little scream. 
Matters did not mend as they advanced, for at times the 
whole road was covered with ice, though there were 
always one or two safe spots. He rather lost courage ; 
especially as he no longer heard her little screams. He 
had never seen anyone so frightened before. As a mat- 
ter of course, they made their way slowly, step by step, 
with many and long pauses. 

Some of the gardens and fields round about them 
were bare, and some were covered with snow and ice ; 
it was to these she tried to make her way ; but he 
showed her that the way was stopped either by a house 
or a garden ; it was not like in the country. The fields 
looked broken up, the sky, too, for long, narrow, cloud- 
lets were floating through the dark-blue atmosphere 

7 


9 8 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


above, exactly like ice down below here with gaps be- 
tween. The moon seemed to be racing after the cloud- 
lets at full speed, trying to overtake them, pass througli 
and hurry still farther on ; there must be a perfect hur- 
ricane up above ; down below all was quiet. Kallem’s 
mistake made him feel both uneasy and unhappy. The 
unsteady light there was over the whole of nature, with 
its scattered colouring only increased this feeling; surely 
something would go wrong. And never did that feel- 
ing come over him without its bringing back to his re- 
membrance that night of terror from his childhood, with 
all its consequences. Was this to follow him all through 
life, this terrifying forewarning of his own wrong-do- 
ings ? He was greatly excited; for she must not be 
allowed to fall. If it had not been for her timidity he 
would have gone down the hills in a merry, sliding 
dance ; now her being frightened made him frightened 
too. Each slippery place became a real danger, from 
which he was only saved by passing on to a fresh one ; 
they neither looked at each other nor did they utter a 
word, they were impatient and afraid. They were sev- 
eral minutes in doing what otherwise would have taken 
a few seconds ; the one secretly blamed the other, 
struggling on as though for dear life. There was just 
an occasional gasping, “Good heavens ! ” * or “Take 
care here!” or a despairing “No, no, it’s no use!” 
and then a “Try again! Come along!” — at last not 
even that. She might groan and lament, almost cry, 
he no longer answered her. She was so taken up by 
her own fright that she never noticed the change. 

But at last they saw salvation in front of them, name- 
ly, high houses on each side which had kept off the sun 
and prevented the snow melting. The question was 
now to get thus far ; the stand was close by. At last 
they succeeded. She stopped and drew breath and tried 
to laugh, but without success. “Let us wait a little,” 
she said, and drew a long breath again. They turned 
and looked on either side ; farther away they heard 
sleigh bells and listened. “ I hope the last horse has 
not left the stand,” said she ; “ it is late.” She took his 
arm and they walked on. The road was not quite all 
right here either ; the snow was trodden down hard, 
but there had been sand strewn on the pavement ; they 


YOUTH. 


99 


walked quicker, and by degrees with greater assurance. 
“Thank God!” said she, as much relieved as though 
she had come out of a sea of ice. Hardly had she said 
the words before down she fell. They had come to a 
deceptive place where there had been water, which was 
now frozen and covered with hoar frost. She slipped, 
and up against one of his feet, so that he too slipped 
and fell — the one on top of the other. He swore a 
tremendous oath in the fulness of his heart, and sprang 
to his feet again in order to help her ; but she lay there 
immovable with closed eyes. 

He turned like ice. Was it concussion of the brain ? 
He laid her on his knee, pulled off his right-hand glove 
with his teeth, and then untied the strings under her 
chin. Her arms hung loosely down, her face was pale 
as death, he opened her cloak, he wanted to give her 
air. Then she moved. “ Ragni ! ” whispered he ; 
“Ragni!” and bent down still nearer to her. “Dear, 
darling Ragni ! Forgive me !” She opened her eyes. 
“Do you hear? Can you forgive me?” The colour 
came back to her cheeks, her hand went up to her cloak, 
which was unfastened ; then she must have felt it, she 
had only been dazed with fright. He could no longer 
control his joy, he pressed her head to him and kissed 
her one, two, three times. “ Oh, how I love you!” whis- 
pered he, and kissed her again. He felt she wanted to 
move, so he got up at once and helped her up as well. 
But she was not able to stand alone, and nearly fell, so 
he supported her to the garden railing just in front of 
the house ; she caught hold of it and leaned against it 
as if she could not bear her own weight. He let go his 
hold of her to see if she could stand without help, which 
she was able to do. “ I’ll run for a sledge,” said he, 
and away he went. As he ran along he bethought him- 
self that he might have done that at once and all would 
have been avoided. But would he be able to get a sledge? 
If not there, he would run on farther. If only she 
could stand and nobody go by. . . . He ran and he 

flew, and when he saw a horse and sledge standing 
there, he jumped in, and would have had the coachman 
drive off at the top of his speed without knowing where 
he was to go to. When that was rectified and the 
sledge had started, he realized what he had said and 


IOO 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


done as he held her in his arms ! He had felt it all 
along, though it had only been as it were in soft and 
gentle tones, now it burst out into full, rich melody. 

“ Drive on, faster ! She is standing over there to the 
right. We fell down, and she hurt herself. There she 
is !” He jumped out and hurried up to her, while the 
coachman turned and drove the sledge close up to them. 
She was still leaning against the railing, half sideways ; 
she had fastened her cloak again and drawn down her 
veil. She gave him her hand when he came, that she 
might have support ; he took it, put his other hand on 
her waist so as to guide her in front of him ; he did not 
wish to risk being upset again. There was no further 
accident, he put her in the sledge, wrapped her up care- 
fully, paid the coachman and told him where to go. 
She begged him not to drive with her ; she never said 
good-bye ; never looked up. They drove off. 

At once he felt — now she was leaving him. Nothing 
annoys a sensible man more than his own stupidity and 
want of control. He wandered about the streets that 
night by the hour, and sneaked, home like a beaten 
hound. He dared not inquire of the servant next morn- 
ing, but in the evening she told him, unasked, that her 
mistress had not been well ; she had been sick and was 
still in bed, but was rather better. Marie’s conscious 
smile put him into a towering passion. And she had 
the impudence, too, to examine his face closely. All the 
same, he was obliged to go and inquire the next day ; 
her mistress was up and quite well again. But neither 
that day nor the next did he get a glimpse of her, or 
hear a sound from any of the children. Neither did 
she play in the evening, he made an excuse to stay at 
home and listen. Neither she nor the children passed 
that way when they were going out ; they went down 
the back-stairs. He never met her. She chose new 
ways and roads. 

Until then his love had been a secret happiness full 
of many plans. But now he had used violence and 
broken into the sanctuary, and his bright days and 
healthy nights gave way to ceaseless dreaming and use- 
less ponderings. He went through all that happened, 
and each time with self-torturing pangs. He despised 
himself, allowed himself to be led into all sorts of dissi- 


pation and then despised hitnself all the more. From 
the moment he had touched her lips and had offended 
her ears there was, as it were, a veil drawn across her 
image ; he no longer saw the pure, dove-like whiteness, 
borne in all its charms and helplessness by music ; he 
only saw one he longed for. But his was a healthy 
nature and he had a strong sense of the comic side of 
things ; he would not let himself be eaten up by this 
self-torture and stupid longing ; he would move away 
immediately and would do it under pretence that lie 
was going to travel. In that way he thought to over- 
come all difficulties as he would leap over a fence of 
split sticks. He could not bear her having closed her 
door to him ; he could not even bear the servant’s im- 
pertinent smile. 

He was struck now by so much in this moving of his 
which was like the time when Rendalen had moved. 
He had not borne it one single day, either ! Surely it 
could never have been for the same reason ? He 
laughed aloud ; of course it must be exactly the same 
thing that had happened to him ! 

Rendalen’s mother had been in town and had lived 
there ; at that time Ragni had been with them a 
great deal ; Rendalen and she had played duets to- 
gether. They kept this up after his mother had left, 
and it was always on his piano ; he knew that for cer- 
tain. . . . This seemed to him a most humiliating 

coincidence. 

Kallem knew no higher or nobler nature than Renda- 
len’s ; he would never have allowed himself any liberties. 
But; that she could succeed in so completely disturbing 
his peace of mind that he had been obliged to move ? 
There must be something strange in her thus to unsettle 
them. He excused himself in this way, but what was 
worse was that he felt an ever-increasing temptation. 
The same evening he said to Marie that he was going to 
leave either the next day or the day after, he was not sure 
which it would be ; but she was to ask for his bill — as a 
matter of course, he would pay for the whole quarter. 
The girl looked at him, she guessed the hidden meaning 
at once ; did she enjoy it or had she something to tell ? 
In her usual modest way, she asked if he wanted his bill 
at once ? No, he did not. 


102 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


He did not leave the day following, but put it off till 
the next day. He meant to go away for a few days, but 
would first take lodgings somewhere and move all his 
possessions. He went out in the afternoon and found 
rooms, but quite in another part of the town. Then he 
speculated a little as to what reasons he should give for 
his moving — particularly to Rendalen ; he came to the 
conclusion that he would tell him the whole truth ; to 
others he would merely say that he had been disturbed 
in various ways at his old lodgings, which was the truth. 
He went home again about five o’clock, and in througli 
the bedroom door, put on his dressing-gown and slip- 
pers, went into the next room and lay down on the sofa, 
where he fell fast asleep — he needed the rest. At seven 
o’clock the servant came in and lit the stove without 
his noticing it. He woke up a little later and heard the 
fire crackling and saw the light ; he understood from 
that, that it must be past seven o’clock. His thoughts 
flew at once to her who was so near in those other 
rooms. He had a secret hope that, when she knew he 
was going away, he would be allowed to hear her play 
once more. So far he had been disappointed in this ; 
but he could not give up his belief that his departure 
would trouble her. He lay on the sofa listening. Could 
he go and say good-bye to her just as if nothing had 
happened ? Should he light his lamp ? Should he go 
out again ? He raised himself up and stared at the fire 
in the stove. Then he heard a door in the passage open, 
and voices— a couple of women’s voices, with a strong 
north-country accent ; from that he concluded that 
some newly arrived relations had been calling and were 
being escorted to the door ; he heard the aunt’s slow, 
drawling voice ; he heard, too, a man’s voice — was it 
Ole Tuft ? But he could not hear her voice, the voice 
he was listening for. There were good-byes all round 
and the door was shut ; then came the aunt’s voice again, 
then Ole Tuft’s, it really was his voice — he had evidently 
arrived just as the others were leaving ; they went into 
the aunt’s room and shut the door after them, at the 
same time a door was shut a little further away. Again 
there was a ring ; again a door opened and out came — 
both the children, shouting with joy ; they had seized 
the occasion to try and run into Kallem, but they were 


YOUTH. 


103 

not allowed, so there was a chase after them down the 
corridor amid much laughter; they were captured and a 
door shut upon them ; at the same moment, the en- 
trance door was opened ; one of those north-country 
ladies had forgotten her galoshes, and now he could 
hear Ragni’s voice offering to fetch a light, as it was 
quite dark ; but the offer was refused in the usual sing- 
song style. Her galoshes were close by the door ; but 
she could not get them on easily, they were so new ! At 
last ! Now they were on ! Again was heard “Good-bye, 
good-bye ! ” and then the answer, “Very welcome on Fri- 
day ? ” This last was Ragni’s voice. Did he deceive 
himself — or was it not just like the voice of one who 
feels danger is near? It did not sound like her voice. 
Did she speak of him perhaps against her will? Up he 
jumped, and was at the door before she had shut the 
outer one. Should he ? He listened for some sign. 
He did not hear her go ; perhaps she was still standing 
outside. His heart beat fast and loud, but his hand felt 
softly for the door-handle — he opened it noiselessly. 
To him who had been staring at the fire in his stove, 
the passage seemed pitch-dark. He put out his hands 
to feel for the door and got hold of the latch ; he groped 
his way still further, but no one was there. Could she 
have gone out with the last visitor ? But no, he heard 
her say good-bye and remind the others about Friday. 
How was it he had not heard her go ? He never heard 
the inner door open again. She must be in the pas- 
sage. 

His heart beat so that he could almost hear it ; but he 
was impelled onward. Then his hand touched some 
clothes ; he turned to ice ! but he came to his senses di- 
rectly, for the garments were cold and empty. Some 
One was heard coughing and spitting in one of the 
rooms, it was Kate ; then the children were heard talk- 
ing in the kitchen or dining-room. He stood still, like 
any criminal, when he heard these accustomed every-day 
sounds. He ought never to have embarked on this 
proceeding. He heard the aunt’s droning questions and 
Ole’s clear answers ; that is to say, he bear'd their voices, 
but not what they said. Was Ragni in the passage? 
She might have been looking for something and have 
stopped in her fright at seeing him. If he went on, he 


io4 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


might startle her so that she might rush up to any door 
and open it. There he would be then visible to all ! 

Still, she was too timid for that. He advanced a few 
steps. He was in slippers, so his steps were hardly 
audible ; but he hoped that she was not there. The 
children were talking in the room at the end of the 
passage ; he could hear them so distinctly now the 
nearer he came ; he seemed to see them kneeling each 
on her chair and building houses at the table. He was 
ashamed of himself ; what business had he there ? But 
though he asked himself that question, he went on all 
the same ; he went from one side to the other, touching 
first a cloak, then a shawl, then the panel of a door, then 
one of the coloured passage windows, which lie could just 
distinguish. A carriage rattled past ; soon after there 
came a sound of sleigh-bells dying away in the distance ; 
in this kind of half-thaw both carriages and sledges 
were used. Something fell down in the kitchen ; Kate 
began to cough again ; how long time must seem to 
him! probably he never used lights? Surely the door 
between the children’s room and the kitchen was open, 
for they ran in there to find out what h’ad fallen down ; 
he heard the north-country servant answer with lazy 
good-nature ; it was a wooden dish that fell, it tumbled 
out of* the rack. Still he went on. If Ragni were 
there she must be in the extreme corner. How fright- 
ened she must be by this time! What must she think 
of him ? Were he to turn back now, he would look like 
an unsuccessful thief. It was a little lighter by the 
window, but no further ; no light came either from under 
or over the doors, not even through the keyholes, or 
from the children’s room. Could she be standing 
there ? He fancied he must see her were she there. 

Perhaps she had gone from the passage in to see her 
aunt? Close by his own door? Or she might have 
left the door of Kate’s or the children’s room open when 
she went out, and have shut it again just as he opened 
his. Could she be sitting there dreaming ? He felt 
sure of it ; but that was because he wished it to be so. 
But still he went forward. At last close up to the door 
he could hear the children in their room and the servant 
bustling about in the kitchen to the left. He turned 
round and felt much relieved. He walked back much 


YOUTH. 


105 

faster, keeping his hands in front of him ; suddenly he 
took hold of a warm, firm arm. He shivered and 
trembled, sparks seemed to flash from his eyes ; he 
stopped abruptly. But the arm scarcely moved, so he 
regained courage. He let his arm glide slowly down 
from the arm and round the waist, which he cautiously 
encircled. It felt soft and pliable ; she stood quite still 
but trembled a little. He gave a faint pressure. With 
his other hand he took hold of her hand and gently 
pressed it ; it trembled too. He pressed it again — and 
step by step they moved slowly forward — without re- 
sistance, but still not quite willingly. He could just 
hear his own footsteps, but hers not at all ; the chil- 
dren were talking quietly now. There was not a sound 
to be heard either in Rule’s, or in the aunt’s room ; but 
in front of them was an open chink at his door. They 
arrived there ; he pushed it open gently and would 
have led her in ; but here she stopped and tried to draw 
away her hand. He heard her breathing and felt her 
breath, could just make out the pale face as he gently 
pushed her to the threshold, then over it, and closed 
the door behind them. Here he let go his hold of her 
so as to shut the door as quietly as possible. She stood 
with her back to him just as he left her ; but with her 
face buried in her hands ; when he came up to her she 
began to cry. He put his arm round her to draw her 
closer to him ; and her crying turned to sobbing. Site 
sobbed so bitterly and grievously that his blood was 
sobered and a fresh train of thought set in. Unresist- 
ingly she let him lead her to the sofa ; she sobbed so 
despairingly that he felt he must have a light, as one 
would if anyone were taken ill. So he made haste to 
trim the lamp, remembered though that the blinds must 
first be pulled down, so he did that and then lit the lamp. 

No one could weep like that who had not been for 
days and nights shut in with their grief. The very table 
she leaned on shook with her sobs. 

Hundreds of times he had made fun of those lovers 
who in novels and plays go down upon their knees ; but 
now he pushed the end of the table a little to one side 
and let himself sink on his knees before her like the 
humblest sinner. He was trying to see her face, but 
with both hands she held her handkerchief up before it. 


io6 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


Her head, shoulders, and bosom heaved with her violent 
weeping, he felt each movement, and begged and im- 
plored her to forgive him ! He had not been master of 
himself when he spoke those words to her that night on 
the ice. He loved her, they belonged to each other. 
“Oh, do not weep so !” he entreated, “I cannot bear 
it!” He took her hands in his and sat down on the 
sofa beside her, he laid her head on his shoulder and 
put his arms round her ; he kissed her hair, he pressed 
her tear-stained cheek against his own ; but she cried 
just as much in this position as in the former one. He 
wanted to give her some wine. No, ho no ! — but it was 
really terrible this crying. Could it be because he had 
brought her in to his room ? He had been longing so 
to see her that he could not resist it when he heard her 
in the passage. Surely she would not have him leave 
without saying good-by ? Was he never to see her 
again ? She shook her head, and disengaging herself 
from his grasp, laid her head down on the table and 
sobbed into her handkerchief, more piteously than ever. 
“ Do you wish me to leave ?” he asked ; but she did not 
hear him. He allowed her to cry on ; after some little 
time he bent down to her and said: “ I will do all you 
wish me to do.” Then she raised herself in all her tears 
from the table and threw herself in his arms. He folded 
both arms round her, and felt, as he held her in that 
close embrace, that she took it in a higher and nobler 
way than he did. 

But someone was at the door and it was opened ; it 
was the servant with his supper. In a great fright he 
took away his arms and stood up ; but Ragni merely 
laid herself down on the table again and sobbed. Care- 
fully the servant put down the tray on the vacant edge 
of the table, with equal care she moved the lamp a little 
and pushed the tray further in. She was red in the face 
and did not look at either of them ; but she had the 
usual smile which seemed to say : I have been expect- 
ing this for long ! And now Kallem fancied there was 
a quiet roguish delight in that smile, so very differently 
can one look at one and the same thing. She came in 
very quietly and went out equally so, and shut the door 
as gently as though he himself had done it. 

“Good God ! Ragni !” he exclaimed. She answered 


YOUTH. 


107 


not a word, it seemed to her a trifling matter, engrossed 
as she was in her own grief. Again he took her and 
drew her close to him, then she said : “ Oh, how unhappy 
I am ! ” — and that was really the only thing she said all 
the time she sat there. He could answer nothing but 
what would have sounded very stupid. He tried to say 
something and took refuge in caresses ; but she got up 
and drew herself away — she wished to leave him. He 
felt he was not able to keep her any longer, but took 
her to Ihe door. Before she opened it, she turned to 
him with a look of sorrowing devotion, like one in 
death-agony. He put out the lamp and she slipped 
out. 

But just as she shut the door behind her, a faint ray 
of light fell on her, it came from the little recess that 
led into the aunt’s room ; at that very moment the door 
opened and her aunt stood before her — looking to Rag- 
ni’s fevered imagination like a huge whale on two legs. 
Of course, the aunt had heard Ragni crying in her 
lodger’s room, and had seen at a glance how to account 
for Ragni’s strange manner the last few days. So she 
had kept guard outside her own door, and just as Ragni 
was leaving Kallem’s room, she gave a push to her door, 
thereby causing the light to fall full on her. Her aunt 
put out her hand ; that was as much as to say : “This 
way, my lady ! ” And Ragni obeyed, and her aunt let 
her pass in before her. She was not alone. There 
stood a sofa against the wall nearest to the room she 
had just quitted ; a tall, fair man with a mild and gen- 
tle face rose up from the sofa-corner ; it was Ole Tuft. 
It was he who had first heard her cry and had been out- 
side their door. Ragni sank down onto a chair between 
the sofa and the door. 

The next day she was in bed. But before Kallem 
went out he got a note from her in which she told him 
that her aunt had heard her crying in his room, and so 
had Tuft ; he had also been at their door. There was 
nothing more in the note ; but low down at the bottom 
of the page the almost illegible words : “ Never more.” 

In the midst of all the fright which now came over 
him, too, Kallem thought those poor little words “never 
more ” so eloquent, that they caused his eyes to fill with 


io8 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


tears, but his heart to take fresh courage. Something 
must be done now ! Her aunt and Ole Tuft had evi- 
dently been cross-questioning her. He had heard noth- 
ing of it, so it must either have been done very quietly 
or else not in that room at all. Poor, poor Ragni ! 

He was full of the greatest compassion, of furious in? 
dignation, of fear, revenge, boundless love, disappoint- 
ment, rage ! 

He dressed himself and hurried out into the street. 
Where to ? He would go to Ole Tuft ; the confounded 
croaker meddling in his affairs ! He was both spy and 
detective ! What the devil did he want ? What was his 
object? Was that walking in “the ways of God,” that 
too ? Peeping through key-holes and listening at doors ? 
It was all in “the ways of God” that this fellow had 
stolen his handsome sister from him ; was he now to rob 
him of his love? Why had lie not gone direct to him ? 
Why first tell the aunt ? 

He felt the greatest desire to go and maltreat him, to 
nearly half kill him. By heavens, he deserved it ! He 
turned round really intending to go there ; but then he 
seemed to see his sister’s great eyes gazing steadfastly 
at him. It was no fancy; turn about as lie would, on 
every side he was met by those clear eyes. He seemed 
even to feel her cheek resting against his like that last 
evening they were together. The end of it was that he 
walked past. But that brought him in the neighbour- 
hood of his old lodgings, and he thought of Rendalen. 
He would go to him ! He would’not keep one item of 
the truth from him ; it would be such happiness to un- 
burden one’s self. At a little distance from the door he 

saw someone coming out. Was it ? Ole Tuft! 

The scoundrel himself ! . . . Kallem’s blood boiled ; 

but Tuft went the other way and never saw his brother- 
in-law. 

Kallem did not know Tuft at all as he was now. Had 
he done so, he would have understood that for him it 
was a question of saving two souls from perdition. He 
lived in a state of feverish sleeplessness for the sake of 
these two precious souls, and sought help ; and allowed 
himself no peace or rest till he had accomplished his 
aim. He might have gone himself to Kallem, but it 
might have been dangerous, and certainly was useless. 


YOUTH. 


109 


Other steps must be taken in this matter. If Kallem 
had had any inkling of this, instead of going to Renda- 
len, he would have followed Tuft home and have beaten 
him till he could not stand. 

Fortunately, however, lie suspected nothing and rang 
at Rendalen’s door, full of all he was going to tell him. 
Rendalen opened the door himself at once ; he was al- 
most ready dressed to go out ; he stood there with his 
hat on and his overcoat in his hand, well brushed and 
carefully got up. As soon as he saw Kallem, he lifted 
his head like a war-horse confronting the enemy. “ You 
here ? ” he exclaimed. Kallem walked in quickly, 
highly astonished. Rendalen shut the door, locked it 
as well, and flung his hat and coat from him. “ I was 
just getting ready to go to you ! ” he hissed out the 
words ; he was quite pale through all his freckles, his 
thin lips tightly pressed together, his small gray eyes 
flashing. And now he clenched his broad, short hands, 
the hands of a giant, till they got quite white. His red 
hair stood on end and seemed to rival the eyes in flash- 
ing fire ; the enormous bodily strength of the man made 
Kallem uneasy and alarmed. “What the devil is the 
matter?” The other answered in the greatest rage, 
though subdued : “ Tuft has been here and told me ev- 
erything. Ah, I see you turn pale.” He came still 
closer to him : “ She was the most innocent creature on 
earth — you villain ! ” His voice trembled. 

“ Oh, come now ! ” said Kallem, but he turned cold 
as ice. But the other had no longer any control over 
himself and interrupted : “You think I know nothing 
about such things ? Why, it is common to every single 
individual ! And do you know why I moved away 
from there ? Do you imagine that I have less power 
and influence over anyone than you ? You damned, 
cowardly villain ! ” He poured forth these words like 
wild shrieks out of his troubled spirit, and yet he spoke 
more quietly than he had previously done. Anger and 
scorn in such a degree is always infectious. 

“Oh, don’t you be jealous, man !” shouted Kallem. 
If a bucket full of blood had been poured over Renda- 
len, he could not have turned redder, and as suddenly 
turned white again. In vain he strove to speak, but not 
being able, he went straight at Kallem, piercing him 


no 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


with his eyes, so that they almost burnt him. He just 
managed to say : “ I have the — the — the greatest wish 
to fight you ! ” 

“ Come on ! ” said Kallem, and put himself into posi- 
tion. Hardly had he thus mockingly challenged him, 
before Rendalen’s right hand swung round in the air. 
Kallem stooped down and then rose unhurt, but kept on 
provoking him. Rendalen rushed at him again. Kal- 
lem nimbly jumped on one side. “Are you out of your 
senses?” shouted he, loudly. 

Rendalen stood there just as if someone had seized 
him from behind and were holding him, and by degrees 
he seemed to lose all power. He stared in front of him 
stiff and pale, until at last, summoning all his strengh of 
will to his aid, he succeeded in turning away and walked 
slowly to the window, placed himself in front of it, and 
stared vacantly out in the air. His breathing was so 
rapid that Kallem thought he would have had a fit. 
Kallem himself stood quite motionless ; he was too angry 
to go near him. To him Rendalen was a mystery ; a 
moment ago a prey to the most violent passion, and 
now half paralysed. Nothing was heard but the sound 
of his breathing ; his face was unhappy — so utterly, 
miserably unhappy ! What in the world was the mean- 
ing of it all? He looked at his companion, till all his 
old kindly feeling for him woke up again ; and without 
further ado he went up to the window too and stood 
beside him. “You must not take it so much to heart,” 
he said ; “ it is not so bad as you perhaps think.” The 
other did not answer ; perhaps he never heard it, he 
kept on looking out of the window as before. Or, per- 
haps he did not believe him, and thought he was scoffing. 
Then Kallem smiled, and his smile was unmistakable, 
it was good and genuine. Life and color seemed to 
come into Rendalen’s face again ; he turned his head. 
In joyful haste Kallem said: “Upon my soul, I have 
done her no harm, old fellow.” Rendalen did not at 
once take in what he said ; he could not turn it about in 
his mind so quickly ; but when Kallem put his head 
closer to him and said : “ Upon my honor I have not ! ” 
then Rendalen’s heart rejoiced and he put his arms 
round him. 

Overcome as they both were, there followed an ex- 


YOUTH. 


hi 


change of confidences which was boundless. Rendalen 
heard how it had all come about, .and how it was they 
came to love each other. It made a great impression 
on Rendalen, which he neither could nor would try to 
conceal. So Kallem asked him openly whether he too 
loved her ? Again Rendalen turned pale and ill at ease, 
and Kallem felt unhappy at his own thoughtlessness ; 
but it could not be rectified. The conversation came to a 
dead stop, and Rendalen’s eyes avoided his. When, at 
last, he succeeded in shaping his answer, he said : “I am 
not at liberty to love anyone. That is why I moved.” 

Kallem felt this to the very marrow of his bones. 
Rendalen sat with his arms on the table, and a book in 
his hands which he kept turning over and looking at 
both outside and in. “ There is madness in our family 
— widely spread. My father was mad. I — well, you 
know how ungovernable I am — I am on the borders of 
it. My father was exactly the same. So that when 
you said that there — about being out of my senses, 
you hit the mark. The very words of my mother. I 
dare not give in. Not in love either. All the same I 
could not always resist. However, I have no wisli to 
confess. Music helps me to forget; but here it be- 
trayed me, and has done so before, too.” He put the 
book from him, took another one, and laid it on the 
first one, spinning them round on the table. Then he 
heard Kallem say, half laughingly : “And so you chose 
me for your substitute ?” 

“ What the deuce could I do ? I thought you were 
an honorable man.” 

In the evening Kallem struggled to write a letter to 
the apothecary, he wanted him to help them. The 
more he wrote, the more impossible he found it to ex- 
plain to the old bachelor and crusty naturalist, what 
love was, and in what sore distress was she for whom 
he now wrote to ask for help ; he tore up his letter. 
Quickly he determined to try his father. The latter 
had done all he could to help Ole Tuft ; perhaps he now 
would help someone else ? His father was very pecul- 
iar, but he was a warm-hearted man and hated injus- 
tice. Edward Kallem had never heard of anything 
more unjust than Ragni’s self-imposed lot ; he was al- 


1 12 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


most certain that his father would feel the same. So he 
told him about their love — quite without reserve ; he 
promised that if his father would help her, this treaty 
should be like a consecration. He would apply himself 
more earnestly than ever to his studies ; he would strive 
to obtain the highest of everything. And though it 
might be long before they could marry, both on ac- 
count of his as well as her further education — he would 
wait for her as faithfully as she for him ; that was his 
solemn promise. And he hoped his father had no rea- 
son to think he would break that promise ; but rather 
take him at his word and help her. 

He was not mistaken in this. Three days afterward 
he had an answer by telegram, that everything was ar- 
ranged according to his wish ; the necessary should be 
sent by the first post. With this victorious telegram in 
hand, he began to work his and Rendalen’s mutual 
plan ; to have her sent over to Kallem’s cousin at Madi- 
son. He wrote to him at once and asked him to cable 
“ yes ” or “ no.” 

He obtained a first meeting with her through the ser- 
vant, who showed herself to be thoroughly faithful to 
Ragni ; it was in a street outside the town and did not 
last long ; the servant was with her. He told her at 
once what were his plans and how it could be arranged, 
and who was to have a hand in the matter. She was so 
frightened that he thought it would be impossible to 
proceed ; on no consideration would she leave the chil- 
dren. He was in despair after this meeting, and went 
to Rendalen to complain. He at once suggested that 
the children could be sent to his mother ; he would 
write to her about it. When Kallem, at their next 
“ rendezvous,” told her this, Ragni seemed to hesitate ; 
she acknowledged humbly that she could never educate 
them so well herself. But what *she- partially agreed 
to the one day, she drew back from the next ; every 
time she had been with the children it again all seemed 
so impossible to her. And as she each time worked 
herself up to such a pitch of excitement that all 
the passers-by stared at them, they could no longer 
keep their appointments in the street. There could be 
no question of their meeting anywhere but at his or 
Rendalen’s rooms ; but Ragni had again become so shy 


YOUTH , ; 


Ir 3 

that he doubted whether she would consent. He pre- 
pared her for it by letters, and got Marie also to try and 
persuade her to it, and to accompany her. At last this 
succeeded too. After this they met a few times at his 
rooms, once too, at Rendalen’s ; but always there was 
the same undecided wavering and hesitation as to what 
she would do, and always there was great despair. She 
was afraid, too, of the actual journey ; fancy going all 
the way to America, alone ! And alone from New York 
to Madison ; that was the worst of all ! It was impossi- 
ble, quite impossible ! Marie would like to go with her ; 
Kallem promised her a ticket ; but on no account could 
they both forsake the children ; no, it was most wrong 
even to think of such a thing. Then Marie would wait 
until the children were properly provided for. 

If she really were to start, she would have to go on 
board without anyone knowing anything of it ; there- 
fore the necessary things for the voyage would have to 
be bought ; but as a matter of course, all would have 
to be most carefully arranged. He expected to meet 
with opposition in this ; but she was still such a child, 
that before it was really settled about the voyage, he 
had persuaded her to buy all her travelling outfit ; it 
amused her immensely. If only he could manage to 
have a good long talk with her, or see her every day just 
for a little — but she was cautious to an extreme. Then 
he wrote letters yards long ; she dare not answer, she 
fancied she was watched by her aunt and the jiorth- 
country kitchen-maid ; but as the letters told her of all 
the strength of his love, and as they, with all the cun- 
ning of love, were written to charm her imagination, 
they effected a great deal more than the meetings had 
done. It was thanks to the cunning Marie that these 
letters reached their destination ; she was too clever both 
for the aunt and -for the north-country girl. As long 
as these arrangements were going on and keeping his 
strength up to the mark, Kallem lived for nothing else. 
Perseverance increases our courage ; and when at last 
the cable came with “yes,” he ventured to form a bold 
plan. It consisted in getting everything ready by the 
time the next big English steamer was to start, and not 
to say a word to her about it, but to make sure that she 
that day should have an excuse for going out early and 
8 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


114 

remaining out a long time, and also arrange for Marie 
to be at liberty. He made an appointment for Ragni 
to meet him at his rooms two hours before the steamer 
was to sail ; both ticket and luggage were all ready. 

On the appointed day and at the given hour, she and 
Marie appeared. Ragni’s luggage had been sent on 
board early in the morning and the carriage ordered 
and paid for. Nothing was to be seen in the rooms that 
called to mind a departure ; but the way he received 
her made her afraid that something was brewing. For- 
merly he had been so self-contained — partly, too, be- 
cause Marie was always present — now he embraced. 
Ragni with all the tenderness he was capable of, and 
seemed as though he could not let her go. His grief 
had no regard for others ; neither did he seek to hide 
anything, but, with both her hands in his, and gazing 
into her eyes, he told her hurriedly that her luggage 
had been sent on board ; the steamer would sail in two 
hours; and here was the ticket. 

She understood directly that this was the choice be- 
tween him and everything else — there was no time to 
reflect. And that was how he gained the day. At first 
she stood there in speechless helplessness ; then she 
crept close up to him and stayed there. He kissed her 
“welcome;” they held each other in a close embrace 
and wept. The servant saw someone coming outside 
the windows and drew down the blinds, so there was 
only a dim light in the room ; and they, too, heard 
Marie crying in the next room. Their embrace gradu- 
ally became a whispered conversation, at first inter- 
rupted, but then accompanied by subdued sobbing, 
which was checked and began again, like music with 
sourdine. There were whispers of the day when he 
would journey after her, never again to part from her ; 
and whispers of how true a friend he would be to her ; 
that their future was worthy of sacrifice now ; that both 
his and her letters should be like diaries — short, hurried 
words of endless love, all from him ; hers was the weep- 
ing, sourdine-like. 

Although this was the hour of departure, this hour 
they spent together now, it was the first time that they 
had so completely and undisturbedly shown their devo- 
tion for each other. The novelty of it shone in upon 


YOUTH. 


n 5 

their grief till there seemed to be a supny haze around 
them. Soon her hushed sobbing became a whisper; the 
first time she spoke he wanted to look at her, but she 
would not allow it. If he would sit quite still and not 
look at her, then she would tell him something. He 
was the white pasha ! She would not tell him what she 
meant by it, it would take too long ; but she had been 
waiting for the white pasha from the time she was a 
child ; that is to say, since her father died ; she was 
then twelve years old. She had suffered much, most of 
all when she came home from Berlin and had not suffi- 
cient courage to play in public ; but neither would she 
tell him about that ; it would take too long. Always 
she had dreamt of this white pasha ; ah, if he would but 
come ! She was quite confident that he would come. 
Even when she went down to the “whales,” she knew 
he would follow her ; he would find the way. Once she 
had thought that Rendalen was the white pasha ; but, 
as it turned out, he was not ; he bad moved away to 
make room for the real one to come. The first evening 
they two had met in the silent falling snow. Why 
should they have met there ? She had looked at him 
then and thought, wonderingly : Is he the white pasha? 
The next time they met he had carried little Juanita, 
and then she felt almost certain that none other would 
have thought of that. But then everything seemed to 
have come so rapidly, and it was all so different from 
what she had imagined. He asked in a whisper if she 
would tell him what had made her go down to the 
“ whales” a year ago ; she shuddered when he asked her. 
And even after her marriage, did she still expect the 
white pasha to come ? More eagerly than ever. Had 
she not known then what marriage was? She pressed 
closer to him and was silent. 

Although he was just on the verge of learning what 
he most wished to know, he stopped. 

He told her that it was arranged so that Rendalen was 
to meet Ragni on board ; the former was going home 
for a few days and would take care of her. Then they 
got up. 

Would Kallem not take her to the steamer? He put 
his arms round her, hid his face on her shoulder and 
said, he dare not. This was the hardest blow of all. 


n6 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


For a while she was quite overcome ; then they sat clown 
again and took leave of each other, a long, harrowing 
farewell. Marie was on thorns. He would have taken 
her down to the carriage ; but Marie forbade it most 
decidedly ; they must not be seen together by anyone. 

He heard the carriage drive away, but did not see it, 
and in all the succeeding years he looked back upon 
that moment as the most terrible he had ever experi- 
enced. 

He did not go out to see the steamer sail away in the 
distance ; but in the afternoon he went down to the 
place where she had lain. 

From there he went for a long walk — and timed it 
so that her aunt should see him. It was part of his 
plan. 

For a time this kept all suspicion away from him. 
No one could suppose that the person who had ar- 
ranged Ragni’s flight and who was the cause of it, would 
come to the front so soon. 

Everyone who remembers this event, will remember, 
too, how severely she was condemned. A stranger, shy, 
and without relations, she had left no remembrance of 
herself — unless it were of her poetical playing so full of 
song; and that could not plead for her now. A year 
ago she had undertaken to live for her dead sister’s chil- 
dren ; and now she had forsaken them. The blind man 
whom she had married was her own choice ; she had 
had no difficulties with him. 

If she regretted it, why not say so openly ? Why be- 
have in that sly, underhand way ? 

It was hard for Kallem to listen to all this ; had he 
ruined her reputation ? Already everyone took it for 
granted that she had had a “ liaison ” with someone ; 
and the hour was not far distant when it would be as- 
serted that he was the guilty one. 

He met the children with Marie outside the univer- 
sity one day, and they both rushed straight at him. 
Wliat would he not have given had it -been Ragni who 
came smiling after them ? Of course he took the chil- 
dren into a confectioner’s and heard them tell how 
“ mamma had gone away in a large ship,” “ mamma was 
coming back for Christmas with new dresses and new 
dolls.” 


YOUTH. 


it 7 


There was an illustrated paper lying on the table ; 
Juanita took it into her head that all the ladies in the 
pictures were “ mamma ; ” when her sister said no, she 
just moved her little finger on to another, “that’s 
mamma ! ” 

That same day Kallem had been present at an unsuc- 
cessful operation ; a mishap occurred and the patient 
nearly bled to death. His nerves were so upset at this 
time that it made a great impression on him. But when 
he left the children and went to his dinner, it seemed to 
him as though he were the unsuccessful operator. He 
had wished to set Ragni free, but he had done it badly, 
and now her good name was bleeding to death. So- 
cial life altogether was a network of muscles, sinews, 
and veins. . . . 

He was sitting in the university library a few days 
later, reading and studying some plates in front of him, 
when he looked up to see Ole Tuft, fresh and smiling, 
before him. He did not know where Kallem was liv- 
ing now, and so had gone to find him here. Kallem got 
up and went out with him. 

None of Kallem’s fierce courage remained to threaten 
his brother-in-law ; he no longer desired to half kill 
him, not even to look reproachfully at him ; and he 
would be more than satisfied if Ole. did not cast re- 
proachful glances at him. Probably Ole knew, as all 
must know who were in any way connected with the 
event, that Edward Kallem was the sinner. He must 
have heard it from Josephine, who would hear it from 
her father — or, was he mistaken ? Was there not a 
mixture of doubt in Ole’s friendliness ? A suspicion as 
to his thorough honorableness ? A warning that such 
a beginning could never lead to victory ? Or, was all 
this hearty friendliness sincere, genuine “brotherly 
love ” — fostered by a young theologian’s obedience to 
the command : “Love one another ?” 

Ole came to announce that he had finished his stud- 
ies and was going home ; his joy was great. He asked 
if he should take any message ; he said he hoped soon 
to begin his “ work ; ” he hinted at what then would 
happen ; the way was clear before him and the goal was 
not a small one. All who passed in and out of the li- 
brary stopped to look at the good-looking young fellow. 


n8 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


Edward stood bare headed up on the library steps, as 
Ole Tuft, in his heavy sort of way, went slouching across 
the square. This much was true : there went a man 
who was sure in himself ; his beginning was thorough 
and complete, as was his nature. 


MANHOOD. 
























































































































I. 


“ Justification has its origin in the mercy 

of God. It cannot have it in the sinner or his moral 
struggles with self; for he is unjust. And as such he 
neither deserves it nor can he lay claim to it. God’s 
sublime will alone can justify him.” 

Tiie clergyman walked backwards and forwards, learn- 
ing by heart from the written sheets he held in his hand. 
The sun was shining brightly in at both windows ; they 
looked to the southwest and were wide open ; a milky 
whiteness seemed to come through the furthest win- 
dow and shed itself over the gray varnished floor ; flut- 
tering aspen-leaves were reflected on the window ; the 
aspen-trees stood trembling by the railing outside on 
the road. The scent of auriculas, lilacs, and laburnums 
streamed in from the garden ; he recognised each par- 
ticular scent floating through the air ; for he had planted 
both trees and flowers himself; they were his pets. If 
the breeze were a little stronger, regardless of every- 
thing, it would waft through the whole garden a power- 
ful whiff from the budding birches and fresh pine- 
needles on the fir-trees which stood outside his domain ; 
each time followed by a whiff of all sorts of things from 
the open fields ; there was a smell of growing. 

Hush ! 

“ What makes God so merciful to the poor 

unjust man, who can do nothing by himself ? It is His 
unfathomable love for sinners, His unmerited loving- 
kindness, that makes him so.” 

The steamer whistled for the third time ; no, this 
was irresistible, he must watch the steamer as it steamed 
away from the pier in a long curve, and out across the 
lake, cutting the mirror-like water in two ; the larger 
share fell to the islands yonder, the lesser to the shore 
here by the town. He took up his telescope from his 


122 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


desk. The pier down below was full of many-colored 
parasols, with a mixture of men’s hats, mostly dark in 
colour, and here and there were linen hoods and ker- 
chiefs, oftenest several of them together. 

He heard steps to the right in the sand ; they came 
from his mother’s garden and were coming to this one 
— steps of a grown-up person and two small child’s 
steps to one of the other’s. “ I say, mother, what has 
the steamer got inside its stomach ?” “ Ha, ha ! ” Then 
there came a woman who gave one the impression of 
great power and strength. A powerful throat and full 
chest, exceptionally well made ; a dark-looking face, 
rather large and with a hooked nose ; the hair was al- 
most black. She had on a cream-colored muslin dress 
spotted with bright-red flowers ; it was made with a red 
silk yoke and a belt of the same stuff and colour. It was 
a striking contrast to her dark complexion, black hair, 
and clear eyes ; she showed her appreciation of the 
warm spring day by her consummate brilliancy of colour- 
ing. But directly she saw the smiling Melancthon face 
in the window, she let down her red parasol between 
them. She led her little boy by the hand, a pretty little 
fellow about four years old, with fair hair and a face like 
the face of him standing in the window. The boy 
dropped his mother’s hand, opened the gate between 
the two gardens, and ran past to open the next gate out 
to the road. As his wife passed by, the clergyman 
whispered : “ I congratulate you ! You are charm- 

ing!” But there was a bitter sweetness in the tone. 
Ought a clergyman’s wife to dress as she did ? 

Without lowering her parasol, she walked on to the 
open gate and along the road down toward the town ; 
the little boy hastened to shut the gate and ran after 
her. “Where are you going? — Down to see !” shouted 
the boy as he ran on. The back of her neck seen 
tinder her hat, her figure against the sunlight, her walk, 
the bright colours . . . the clergyman stood in the 

window drumming on the sill and whistling noiselessly. 
His glistening eyes continued to follow her — till he 
got up, giving a powerful push to the sill with all five 
fingers. 

“ God does not punish, He is long-suffering, 

He wishes to save. But not as the leader of an army 


MANHOOD. 


123 


gives quarter, or a king grants an amnesty (perhaps 
they won’t all understand ‘ amnesty ; ’ should I say 
— oblivion? . . . No, that’s not enough ; ‘merci- 

ful oblivion ; ’ well then — ) ; but not as the leader of 
an army gives quarter or a king grants merciful obliv- 
ion ; not like that does God judge ; no, that would be 
contrary to God’s eternal holiness. Justification is cer- 
tainly an act of mercy, but it is also an act of judgment. 
It needs a fundamental law, that is, the claims of the 
law, which is God’s own, must be fulfilled.” 

Now this was decidedly very juridical. 

He looked down into the book which lay open on the 
desk between the two windows ; he compared it with 
the one he held in his hand. All the while he listened 
to the roar of the steamer which came cutting in across 
the lake. He felt obliged to look out of the furthest 
window, and the result was that unconsciously he sat 
himself down there. The sun was shining on the 
steamer’s white awning, a line of foam stretched be- 
tween shore and island like a rope ; not the tiniest cloud 
was in the sky, so that the smoke rose up against a 
clear background and the noise of the steamer was 
heard distinctly. The clergyman looked from the 
steamer to the town, to the shore, across the lake, and 
towards the hills away on the other side of the lake ; the 
snow still lay on most of the distant blue hills. The 
noise of the steamer seemed to fill everything, like an- 
other sermon following upon his own. The modest 
fragrance coming from his own little garden attracted 
his eyes from the greater to the less. Little Edward 
and he had done it all together, that is to say, he had 
really done it, and little Edward had been there to make 
miscliief. The minister examined first the beds on 
which as yet nothing had come up, then he looked at 
those that had been first finished, they already wanted 
weeding. Little Edward could very well help with that. 
Tiresome, very ; but he had promised himself that no- 
body but he should touch the garden this year ; bend- 
ing is a healthy thing, it causes the gall to mix freely 
with the blood. His thoughts turned unconsciously to 
his wife ; when would she come to him with a glass of 
wine and a bit of cake ? It is in the nature of women 
to guess our weaknesses and to be lenient to them. 


124 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


He looked up, she had disappeared ; he then stood bolt 
upright : 

“ The claims of the law, which are God’s 

own, must be fulfilled. If a sinner could do this by 
himself, then there would be no mercy in justification ; 
consequently it must be by the help of another. 

“ But even this atonement by another must come of 
God’s saving mercy, if it is not to do away with justifi- 
cation (oh, how juridical !). If this work of mercy is to 
be a benefit to all, then the atonement must be extended 
to the whole of sinful humanity. If only the Almighty 
Himself can bring about a like atonement, a like rec- 
onciliation and justification. 

“ It is a basis of faith for all Christians, that this doc- 
trine of the salvation of the world, and the forgiveness 
of sins of the whole of humanity, once for all, are ob- 
tained through Jesus Christ, and that each individual 
sinner can reap the benefit thereof.” 

He looked up. Surely the steamer should be . . 

yes, there it is. He went to the window and remained 
standing there. The ship shot out in a straight line 
towards the headland, which stretched so far that it al- 
most reached to the island. The large town which lay 
to the right, and of which the headland formed the 
nose, stretched itself out almost the whole way across ; 
the sea lay between. Farm upon farm lay in the sun, 
verdant and fruitful ; here and there were large gaps 
that showed the distance between the farms. But that 
side which stretched out toward the island appeared to 
be nothing but a flat tongue of land ; the steamer had 
to go through the narrow strait out yonder and dis- 
appear in the large bay beyond. 

What a puffing and groaning ! Just as if nature had 
learnt to speak! That is to say, the entire surround- 
ings, not only a part of them. Supposing a string were 
strung across the whole country and a bow were to be 
drawn over it, it would be like the sound of the steam- 
er’s noise 

Hush ! 

“ God has so willed it, and has ordained it 

so, that a sinner can be justified by His grace, through 
Christ who has fulfilled the law for us. The merits of 
Christ and the righteousness of Christ have paid all our 


MANHOOD. 




debts. Everyone can in a way take a share for himself 
of the righteousness that Christ has gained for the 
world.” Nd, stop a bit, is not that going rather far ? 
Still that is about the meaning of it. 

Soon after this he lay stretched out at the window, 
leaning on his elbows, as if he had no intention of ever 
getting up again. As Josephine had not returned with 
the little one, he gazed down the road and over the sea 
and island, thinking of the islet that lay out there to 
the left ; he could not see it from here ; but he knew it 
was there, and that it was so amusing. His thoughts 
flew rapidly from the mountains to the steamer again ; 
it was struggling forward towards the little strait. The 
island out yonder had a garden hat on, and now it 
seemed as if a veil were added as well from the smoke 
of the steamboat. Surely the wind was blowing from a 
different quarter out there ? No, now it seems the same 
over here too. The wind chops and changes at this 
time of year. No scent from trees, gardens, or fields 
was wafted towards him now, we shall probably soon see 
the fan of the screw drawing black lines through the 
water. To the left, down by the sea, an engine whistle 
screamed shrilly ; perchance a train was about to start, 
or perhaps they were only shunting a luggage train. 

Good heavens, how quiet everything was otherwise ! 
He could hear children’s voices from afar, even the very 
vibrations were audible. Hammering and sawing could 
be heard every now and then in the new house at the 
corner of the beach street and the road that turned up 
this way ; the sound seemed to proceed from an empty 
space. The staccato puffs of the groaning steamer 
could still be faintly heard in the distance. The house 
he was in lay in a free and open space, it was therefore 
that he had so extensive a view and could hear every- 
thing so distinctly ; all this, however, would be over 
when once the fields were parcelled off for building pur- 
poses. 

He fell into deep thought on this subject ; would it 
not be wise for him to buy up land ? He wished to do 
so very much ; but house and ground and everything 
they had belonged to his wife. His own little fortune 
was invested in the tiny house and garden to the right, 
where his mother lived. 


126 


h\ r GOD'S WAY. 


There are many advantages in having a rich wife, even 
though the marriage contract may leave her free to dis- 
pose of her fortune as she chooses ; many little comforts 
are gained which make life pleasanter and work easier ; 
besides it certainly increases one’s authority — particu- 
larly a clergyman’s. Much good may be done which 
others have to deny themselves, and this may be turned 
to power. He had felt this and had felt the comfort of 
it. It pleased him. 

But . All “ buts ” proceed from the person who 

has the disposal of the fortune. “Just as the congre- 
gation is subject to Christ ” Hush! — Again he be- 

gan to read, aloud this time : “An outer foundation for 
justification is therefore that Jesus has fulfilled the laws ; 
the inner condition is that the sinner believe this. How- 
ever much God may be reconciled with the world, He 
can grant His grace to that sinner only who is attached 
to Christ through faith in Him as his Saviour.” 

The book was lowered, the minister was not conscious 
of what he was reading. There was a certain passage 
in Ephesians that made him pause. If the wife be not 
subject in all things, . . . now, just the fact of the 

wife having the disposal of her fortune, would sow seeds 
of dissent. 

He was so firmly persuaded of this and could produce 
such convincing proofs, that he neither saw nor heard 
a thing, near or distant — except as though he were lis- 
tening to another person’s account of it. He drummed 
on the window-sill and looked down the road. Two 
newly awakened butterflies circling round -each other 
above and below his window, had not the smallest idea 
of all the difficulties that can ensue when one has a for- 
tune and not the disposal of it. A little further away, 
shaded by the boy’s footstool which had stood there for- 
gotten for some days, a graceful declytera with its thin 
stalk covered with little red bells, rang her wedding- 
bells, a wedding without the slightest regard to the 
epistle to the Ephesians, v. 24. Therefore it was over- 
looked by the minister. Not even the bees belonging 
to Nergard the gardener — up here perhaps for the first 
time this year (would they remember the way, now that 
the wind had changed and the scent of the flowers gave 
them warning) — not even the bees did he hear buzzing 


MANHOOD. 


127 


round the new blossoms shaded by the house. Matri- 
monial difficulties as regards Ephesians v. 24, can weave 
a covering for the head even though the sun’s rays be 
shining on the hair. His eyes were blind as the wind 
itself as he let them wander over the town, yonder on 
the gentle slope, with its three shades of green, the 
meadows, the corn-fields, and the woods. Just at that 
moment there lay a long black stripe across the water, 
and some single wavy lines ; he was in the midst of it 
all, but saw nothing. A cow tethered over the way was 
lowing for water, water ! All around him seemed in a 
state of invisible expectancy . . . until the despair- 

ing cry of a child seemed to pierce the warm spring air, 
. . . one single scream. He seemed to hear each 

vibration, it was like a cutting hand laid on his chest ; 
he started up, listening breathlessly for the next. 
Would it never come, that next scream; the child must 
have disappeared after the first . . . no, there it is 

again. The first scream had been despairing, this next 
was horror itself, and the next one too and the follow- 
ing one ! . . . The minister stood there quite pale, 

with all his senses on the alert. He heard rapid foot- 
steps across the sand to the right ; it was his mother 
who came to the gate between the two gardens ; she was 
a thin old woman, a black cap covering her chalk-white 
hair, which framed in a cautious and dry-looking face. 

“No,” exclaimed the minister, “no, God be praised, 
that is not Edward ; that flourish in the crying was not 
his ; no, there are no flourishes about him ; he bellows 
right out, he does ! ” 

“ Whoever it is, it’s a bad business,” answered she. 

“ You are right, mother,” and in his heart he prayed 
for the little one crying so pitifully. But when he had 
done that, he gave thanks that it was not his boy, which 
was quite allowable. 

A tall man in light clothes and with a Stanley hat on, 
was walking up the road while this was going on. He 
kept looking at the house and garden ; the minister 
looked at him too, but did not recognize him. He bent 
his way to that side of the road, straight up to the steps 
— a tall man with short, sun-burnt face, spectacles, and 
a peculiar rapid way of walking ; but, in all the world ? 

. . . The minister drew back from the window just 


128 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


as the stranger reached the steps, which he must have 
taken at a bound, for now there was a footstep in the 
passage. Then came a knock. 

“ Come in ! ” 

The door opened wide, but the stranger still stood 
outside. 

“ Edward ! ” 

The other made no answer. “What, Edward? you 
here ! without first letting me know ? Is it really you ?” 
The minister advanced to meet him, gave him both 
hands and drew him in. “Welcome ! dear old fellow, 
you are heartily welcome ! ” His face was red with de- 
light. 

Edward’s sunburnt hands pressed those of his brother- 
in-law in answer, his eyes glistened behind his specta- 
cles ; but he had not yet spoken. 

“ Have you not a word to say, old fellow ? ” exclaimed 
the minister, dropping his hands and laying his on his 
shoulders. “ Did you not meet your sister ? ” 

“ Yes, it was she who told me where you lived.” 

“And did you run and leave her? You wanted to 
get on quicker ? I suppose the boy walked too slowly 
for you ?” asked the minister, his kind eyes looking into 
the other’s with unmixed joy. 

“That was not the only reason. What a pretty place 
you have here ! ” 

“ I am sure your house will be just as nice, although 
I would have preferred this north side of the town to 
the centre.” 

“ But there was no choice left me.” 

“ No, that is quite true. As you were going to buy 
the infirmary, you were obliged to buy the doctor’s 
house as well ; for they go together. Everyone thin ks 
it was very cheap. And convenient in every way, and a 
good deal of ground to it ! What a long time you have 
been away! Along time at a stretch. — And why did 
you not write now, and let me know ? Good heavens, 
how could I not know you directly ! You are really al- 
most totally unchanged.” He looked at his brother-in- 
law’s thin face, which seemed to have gained a milder 
expression. Then he went on talking. They walked 
up and down beside each other, sometimes standing to- 
gether at the window. Then Edward turned to him : 


MANHOOD. 


129 


“ But you, Ole, you are not unchanged.” 

“Indeed! I thought I was. In fact, everyone says 
so.” 

“ No, you have got something of a clergyman’s man- 
ner about you.” 

“A clergyman ? Ha, ha ! you mean that I have got 
% stouter? I assure you I do everything a fellow can to 
prevent it ; I work in the garden, I take long walks ; 
but all to no purpose ! . . . You see, my wife takes 

too good care of me. And everyone here is much too 
good to me.” 

“You should do as I do.” 

“ And what do you do ? ” 

“ 1 walk on my hands.” 

“Ha, ha, ha, on my hands? I, in my position?” 

“In your position ? If you walked up the church on 
your hands, that would be a nice sermon !” 

“ Ha, ha, ha ! Can you really walk on your hands? 7 

“Yes, I say, can?” At the same moment he pro- 
ceeded to walk on his hands ; his short, loose tussore 
silk coat fell down over his head, the minister gazed at 
it and at the back of his waistcoat, and at the piece of 
shirt which showed between it and the band of his 
trousers, at part of the braces, and lastly at the trousers 
down to the stockings, and leather Shoes with thick, 
gutta-percha soles. Kallem ran round the room in no 
time. Ole hardly knew how to take it. Kallem stood 
panting on his feet again, took off and wiped his spec- 
tacles, and began to examine the bookshelves closely in 
his short-sighted way. 

The minister could distinctly feel that there was 
something the matter. Something must have put his 
brother-in-law out. Could his sister have said anything 
to wound him ? No, dear me ; what could it be ? She 
who admired him so greatly ? He would ask right out 
what it was ; why not have it cleared up on the spot? 
Kallem had put his spectacles on and passed across to 
the desk ; a woodcut of Christ by Michael Angelo hung, 
just above it ; he glanced casually at it, and then looked 
down at the open pamphlet lying on the desk. And 
before the minister was sufficiently recovered to ask 
anv questions, Kallem said : “ Johnsen’s systematic the- 
ology ? I bought it at once at Kristianssand.” 

9 


130 


hV GOD’S WAY. 


“ That book ? You bought it ?” 

“Yes, it was never to be had before. However, now 
it lay on the counter. It was just like a new land- 
chart.” 

“ Yes, it is not like Norway any longer,” said the 
minister. “The most of it is nothing but impossible 
jurisdiction.” 

Astonished at the minister’s answer, Kallem turned 
towards him. “Is this way of thinking general among 
the younger Norwegian theologians ?” 

“Yes. I laid it there so as to find out to-morrow all 
the different opinions that exist on the doctrine of pro- 
pitiation.” 

“ Ah, I see, that is a capital plan.” Again Kallem 
looked out of the window, for the fourth or fifth time. 
There could be no doubt that something was the matter. 

“There they are ! ” he said. He was standing at the 
furthest window, and Ole Tuft in front at the other; 
from it he could see his wife’s parasol above her muslin 
dress ; she was walking slowly, and held her little boy 
by the hand; he was evidently talking incessantly, for 
his face was turned upwards towards her, whilst he 
jogged along the uneven road. They kept to the other 
side. But here, just by the hedge, a lady was walking. 
She raised her green parasol (what a beauty it was !). 
She was not as tall as Josephine, but slight ; she was 
looking about and turned slightly ; she was fair, with 
reddish hair, and had a tartan travelling dress on ; it had 
a decidedly foreign cut ; she must surely be a stranger. 
It was not at all wonderful that Edward ran on in front ; 
he wished to be alone and leave them by themselves. 

“ Who can that lady be walking with Josephine ? Did 
she come by the same steamer as you ? ” 

“ Yes, she did.” 

“ Do you know her, then?” 

“Yes; she is my wife.” 

“ Your wife ? Are you a married man ?” 

He said this with such a loud voice that both the 
ladies looked up. In went his head into the room ; but 
nothing but vacant air met him there ; the doctor’s 
head was still outside. It was from out there the an- 
swer came. “I have been married for six years.” 

“For six years?” Out popped the minister’s head 


MANHOOD. 


* 3 * 

again and stared at Kallem with the greatest astonish- 
ment. Six years, he thought. “How long ago is it 
since ? . . . My dear fellow, it is scarcely six years 

since ? . . .” 

The ladies were now close by ; the strange lady walk- 
ing by the furthest hedge, while Josephine and the boy 
w had crossed over to the other side. “ I say, mother, 
why do little boys fall and knock their heads?” No 
answer. “ I say mother, why don't they fall on their 
legs?” No answer. “Because the upper part of the 
body is heaviest, my boy ! ” It was Kallem who said that. 
They all three looked up. 

He left the window to go and meet them, the min- 
ister followed after ; but he stopped at the bottom step. 

The strange lady’s eyes were full of tears when Kallem 
joined them ; in vain she tried to hide it by looking 
about her on all sides. Josephine was cold and stiff. 
Little Edward ran up to his father and told him how 
Nicholas Andersen had climbed up the “ladder” (the 
boy pointed down to the new house) and “then fallen 
down.” And “ the new lady ” had tied up his head with 
her handkerchief. This did not seem to interest the 
minister as much as the boy expected, so he ran round 
the house and in to tell his grandmother all about it. 

“ I suppose I need not introduce her ?” said Edward 
Kallem, with his hand in his wife’s and looking at the 
minister. The latter tried to find something to say, but 
failed and glanced over at Josephine, who did not look 
as if she were willing to help him. 

It was hardly a week ago since the zealous minister 
had written condemning the numerous divorces that oc- 
curred, followed by fresh marriages ; it was an article 
in the Morgenblad entitled “Marriage or Free-love?” 
And he had shown, by the most convincing proofs, that, 
according to the Scripture, the only ground for divorce 
was infidelity between man and wife. Whatever man 
could convict his wife of adultery, was free and could 
marry again ; but if any man divorced his wife for other 
reasons and got married again during her lifetime, then 
the first marriage was valid and not the other one. 
Hardly a week ago he had written all this, and with the 
full consent of his wife. And just because this case of 
Kallem and Ragni Kule was still so fresh in his memory, 


I 3 2 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


he had written how the wife of a sick man had grown 
weary of the path in life chosen for her by God, and 
had had secret love-dealings with another man ; but as 
soon as it was discovered, she had left him and got a di- 
vorce. Supposing, he wrote, that that woman were to 
marry the man who had aided her in deceiving her hus- 
band ? who could call such a marriage as that aught 
but continued adultery? 

He had written it word for word. His wife entirely 
agreed with him ; beforehand, she hated the woman 
who had captivated her brother. And now they both 
stood there before her, and Ragni was her brother’s 
wife. 

This reunion could hardly have been more unfortu- 
nate. They had both been so certain that he was now 
quite steady. He was a learned man now, and had been 
offered a professorship ; he was in fact the one of all the 
younger doctors who was most thought of by the oth- 
ers. 

This was a dreadful disappointment ! And think 
what it would be to live together with them and intro- 
duce them to their circle of friends in the congregation 
as Mr. and Mrs. Kallem ? after putting his name to a 
declaration that their marriage was not valid ! 

Of course Kallem must have read it, he who was so eag- 
er to keep up with the Norwegian bent of the times, that 
he actually read Johnsen’s dogmas. . . . In all proba- 
bility, he would first and foremost read the papers. He 
had read it, of course, and that explained all. There she 
stood, not knowing which way to look, but pressing 

closer to him. And he ? His right arm was round 

her, as though lie wished to proclaim she was his. She 
held her parasol up in her right hand and persisted in 
trying to screen herself, but she could not bear it for 
long, she had to look for her handkerchief, and not find- 
ing her own, took possession of Kallem’s. 

Mechanically the minister said : “ Shall we not go 

in?” 

They did as he wished. He showed them over the 
house, while Josephine went to get some refreshment 
ready. From the study, which looked into the garden, 
they went into the large drawing-room looking on to 
the road, into the drawing-room behind that again, and 


MANHOOD. 


r 33 


from there to the kitchen at the north side of the house, 
and to which there was a separate entrance ; on the 
same side was the larder, and a spare bed-room out to 
the garden, next to the minister’s study, and with a bal- 
cony in front corresponding to the steps at the other 
end of the fapade. Upstairs were several bed-rooms, etc. 
It barely took five minutes to show them over the house. 
Nothing but a few necessary remarks on the part of the 
minister, and from Kallem a sneering allusion to the 
minister’s occupying the spare bed-room, while Joseph- 
ine was upstairs with her boy; a similar speech later 
on, as he stood before a rare collection of celebrated the- 
ologians hanging round Luther’s portrait on the lar- 
gest wall of the room. He refused the refreshments 
Josephine offered them, said good-bye and went. 

Ragni followed them about like an invisible being. 
As they were goingaway, her long, narrow, hand whisked 
through the hands of her brother- and sister-in-law 
like an ermine through a hole in the wall. Her eyes 
glanced timidly at them like the shadow of a wing. The 
minister went out to the steps with them, Josephine re- 
maining behind at the big window. 

Kallem walked so quickly that Ragni was obliged to 
take a little hop at every third step ; the minister stood 
and looked after them. This rapid walking increased 
her agitation so that, when they had got about half-way 
between the beach and the minister’s house, she asked 
him to stop. She began to cry. 

Kallem was surprised at this display of feeling so dif- 
ferent to his own ; he was very angry. But he soon 
understood that she was probably crying on account of 
his behaviour. He drew her up to the railing, and lean- 
ing his back against it, said : “ Have I not acted 

rightly ?” 

“ You were so cruel — oh, so cruel, and not only to him 
and to her, but to me too ; yes, especially to me. You 
never looked at me, never paid the slightest attention to 
my being there.” 

“ But, my dear, it was just on your account.” 

“ Well, then I would rather go away again ! I cannot 
bear that !.” She threw herself in his arms. 

“ My dear! did you see what Josephine looked like ?” 

“ Of course I did,” answered Ragni, and her head 


134 


IN GOD'S W AY. 


peeped up again, her hat falling off, and her hair tum- 
bled. “ She will kill me some day ! ” and again took 
refuge in his arms. 

“Well, well,” said he, “she will not succeed in doing 
you any harm. But am I not to fight your battles ? ” 

Forth she peeped again : “Not in that way ! I would 
never have thought you were like that ! It was so — so 
unrefined, Edward,” and she took and shook him by 
tiie coat-collar. 

“Listen to me,” said he, quietly; “what that fellow 
has written about us, that is unrefined. And her silence ? 
I thought that worse than anything he had written.” 

To this she answered nothing. After a pause he 
heard : “ I am not suited for this.” 

He bent over her head ; her hat had fallen off, but they 
neither of them noticed it ; he whispered softly through 
her reddish hair ; she must not give in at once, nor 
speak of dying or going away again. “We must take 
it in a more manly way than that, don’t you think so 
too ? ” 

“ Yes, yes.” Her rough head peeped out again : “ But 
you must remember that now I am with you ; you can- 
not behave quite as if you were alone.” 

No, he quite saw that, and stood there with a guilty 
conscience. 

At the same time Josephine was again in the room 
looking on to the road ; there was only one window 
there, but a larger one than was usual, and she stood 
leaning her head against the window-post. The minister 
stood behind her. He considered it an untoward acci- 
dent, his having written that in the Morgenblad. 

“Your brother said he had been married six years?” 

Josephine turned right round. But after she had 
thought the matter over, she only said : “ Rubbish ! ” 
and turned to the window again. The minister thought 
too that it must be a mistake. They could not have 
been married before she was legally divorced. 

“ He was always acting a part,” said he ; “he took to 
walking on his hands.” She turned towards him again, 
with eyes wide open with astonishment. “ He walked 
right round the study on his hands,” the minister assured 
her. “He advised me to walk up to the altar in that 


MANHOOD. 


r 35 


way. Well, as he even ridicules Luther, I ought cer- 
tainly to be able to endure his ridicule.” 

She evidently did not wish him" to speak of this meet- 
ing at the present moment ; it caused her too much 
pain. He retired to his study, and looked anything 
but pleased whilst he was filling his pipe. 

Josephine had reckoned so much on meeting and liv- 
ing with her brother. She would never listen to the 
slightest insinuation of a possibility of things turning 
out differently to what she expected. Perhaps her 
present suffering was wholesome for her. 

Had he himself acted rightly to-day ? He certainly 
thought he had. He only hoped he would always be 
able to take things as meekly ; he was quite certain this 
was not the last of it. 

He enjoyed his pipe and took up his sermon again ; 
but thoughts about Josephine would keep cropping up. 
He never could feel the same confidence in their mar- 
ried life as others had. She was irritable at times, and 
this last outbreak had been a bad one. Without doubt, 
because her thoughts had been entirely taken up by the 
expected visitor. 

Hush ! 

“ Conversion is a spontaneous proceeding, con- 

clusive forever. All our sins are washed away ; we are 
as pure and holy in God’s sight as Christ Himself !” 


II. 

These two who had just made friends on their way 
down the road, walked on arm in arm. 

Andersen, the mason, was standing on the scaffolding 
at the, corner of the road and beach street; he was a 
large man, with a long brown beard, and he had blue 
glasses on ; he was covered from top to toe with lime. 
He saw the fair lady again who had helped his little 
boy, and as she was walking arm in arm with the man 
with spectacles whom he had just seen go up yonder, 
he concluded it must be the new doctor ; the minister 
was his brother-in-law, and they were now coming from 
his house. Andersen left off working and took off his 
hat to them ; Ragtii stopped her husband, and An- 


36 


IN GOD'S IV. AY. 


dersen could remark she was saying something. He 
silenced the hammering and asked what the lady was 
saying ? She wanted to know if the little boy had fallen 
asleep ? Yes, he was asleep ; but they would be glad if 
the doctor would have a look at him when he awoke ; 
“for this is the new doctor, I suppose ? ” 

“ You are right, it is he.” 

The people who were in the house came to the win- 
dow at once, also a few in the neighbouring house ; a 
passer-by stopped and stared at them, then moved on 
and told the tale all the way down the street. Andersen 
took the opportunity of mentioning his bad eyes ; the 
doctor would also have to look at them presently. As 
they walked on they had spectators from open win- 
dows and down the street ; they got many a greeting. 
They were young ; it did not require much to make 
them forget what had so recently happened, and they 
began to feel that they might live very comfortably 
here. 

Amongst those who greeted them was a very young 
man with masses of hair, fair, arched features, slightly 
built, but tall ; there was something refined and rather 
shy about him. As they looked at him he blushed. 

“By Jove! you have made a conquest there,” whis- 
pered Kallem. 

Shortly after they met a very odd-looking fellow, 
slouching along in a knitted jacket, with a leathern 
apron in front ; dusty black hair, an unwashed face, 
indeed it was begrimed with dirt ; he was carrying some 
tools in his thin, narrow hands, which were appended to 
unusually long arms that swung in a kind of bow be- 
hind him ; had they swung botli together they must un- 
doubtedly have come into collision. He wore no hat, 
his short clipped hair showed the entire shape of his 
head. His forehead was neither broad nor high, but 
peculiarly well-shaped ; long in the jaw, with project- 
ing bones. His small, cold eyes and tightly pressed 
lips gave him a cynical look. His nose was flat and 
small, and his chin pointed. 

“Do just look at that man !” whispered Kallem. 

“ Disgusting ! ” she replied. 

The man now passed close beside them, scanning 
them carefully. Kallem returned the glance, and when 


MANHOOD. 


*37 


they had gone past they turned to have a mutual look 
at each other. An old woman came hobbling along. 

“Who is that man ? ” asked Kallem. She looked at 
him and then after the man. 

“It is Kristen Larssen.” 

“ Is he a locksmith ? ” 

“ What kind do you say ? ” 

“ Locksmitli ! ” 

“Yes, he is. But he is also a watchmaker and gun- 
smith ; in fact, everything you like.” 

The beach street was open to the sea, and without 
even a stone wall in front of it. Things lay rotting in 
the sea as also on land. There was an unfinished ap- 
pearance about the whole town ; a large house next to 
a small one, then a house built of stone, then a wooden 
one, all of them erected in haste and as cheaply as pos- 
sible. The houses were not even in a line, the street 
was on the whole scarcely bearable. The people they 
met were neither town nor country folk, they were “ wary 
but friendly,” as Kallem said ; “medium goods.” 

They had now arrived at the market-place, where the 
road turned up to the church, tall and graceful. It 
was here they had met Josephine on their way up ; for 
up to the right by the church, in a park, lay their house 
with the garden in front ; they could, however, not see 
it from where they were. 

The street divided just in front of the church, and 
continued to run on either side of it ; their home lay on 
the road to the right. As they came nearer the church, 
they could discern the park behind their own house, 
and in it the gables of the large hospital. At last — 
they were walking slowly, without uttering a single 
word — at last the large garden appeared, and their own 
house ! It was a large wooden building in the Swiss 
style, rather too broad, with big windows all open now. 

Steps led down from the veranda to an open space 
strewn with sand. The flower-garden was nearest to 
this, then the kitchen-garden further on, and at the 
side, down toward the town, lay the fruit-garden, a very 
large one. The two owners looked at it simultane- 
ously. Here it was ! For six long years had they each 
of them worked for this ; they had dreamed of it in va- 
rious forms and ways, but never quite like this ; they 


138 


IN GOD'S WAY , ; 


liad fixed it at many a place, but never just at this stop. 
Not one of all their dream-pictures was in what now 
lay before them ! They both turned and surveyed the 
breadth and beauty of the landscape, smiling the while 
at each other. It was strange that just at that moment 
there was not a creature to be seen, not a sound or a 
noise that recalled anything, either far or near. Just 
those two and their home ! The one saw exactly the 
same as the other saw, the sight and the feelings of the 
one were rendered more intense by the knowledge that 
the other shared them too. Ragni took her arm out of 
Kallem’s, went over to the railing, which was of juniper 
branches, she reached through and gathered some grass 
and leaves ; she came back with this in her hand, and 
fastened it in his coat. He espied a tuft of cowslips 
further up, went and pushed his hand through, and 
gathered them ; she took them and gathered more ; it 
looked very pretty when there were many together. 

At the side of the house and in the yard at the 
back, lay packing-cases, furniture, straw, sawdust, mats. 
Ragni’s grand piano had just been taken out of the 
case and the legs screwed on ; but there was no one 
visible. 

A large dove-cot stood out in the yard. “ Fancy, if 
pigeons came flying here now ? We must keep pig- 
eons ! ” 

“ But, fancy, if a dog came running to us now. We 
must keep a dog ! ” 

At this side there was no gate ; but on the road which 
divided the park and garden. They stopped there, and 
turned once more to look across the wide landscape. 

Here, in this rich country, the richest and sunniest in 
all the land, their own home was to them as the centre 
of the compass. Ragni glanced across to see if the 
minister’s house was visible from there ; but not a bit 
of it! Kallem guessed what she was looking for, and 
smiled. Through the open windows they heard the 
work-people in the rooms ; they went down the veran- 
da steps with much noise and laughter ; they came out 
there and went straight up to the piano, not noticing 
the two who stood there. Then they carried off the 
piano to the veranda and went tramping up the steps 
again. Kallem and Ragni looked behind at the park ; 


MANHOOD . 


*39 


there were beautiful tall trees, through the trunks of 
which one could see the hospital, a large wooden house 
built on a stone wall or foundation, and with large, 
many-paned windows. Then they went through the 
gate into the garden and down to their own house. 

With the exception of one little outhouse on this 
near side, the building lay free on all sides. 

The fruit-trees were just beginning to blossom, so it 
must be a sheltered spot. And the garden ! Ragni 
never gave it a thought that this well-stocked garden 
was Josephine’s work, she only looked forward to her- 
self taking charge of it. The house needed painting ; 
and it must have a different colour than this common- 
looking yellow. It was their house, their home ! Kal- 
lem stamped three times on the ground, it was his too. 
He wanted to go in there, but she wished to go round 
to the front and up the veranda steps. So they went 
round by the straw and packing-cases, and peeped in at 
the windows. The house was low in comparison with 
the length and breadth of it, the roof projected very 
much, lying heavily on the house. But that was a good 
thing. 

The veranda was out of proportion, too, but it was 
broad, and the steps up to it were easy. 

Arm in arm they walked up, but were met first of all 
by a disappointment ; the entrance door, which was of 
glass, was not in the middle, but at the extreme end of 
the south wall of the room. But they soon saw that if 
the veranda was to be in the centre, it could not be 
otherwise ; to the right there were two more rooms 
leading out of the drawing-room. The men who had 
carried in the piano came out to meet them ; they un- 
derstood at once who it was, and as Ragni looked at 
them, first the one, then all of them, took off their hat 
or cap. Kallem returned their greeting, Ragni escaped 
in to the piano which stood in the middle of the floor, 
took out the key and opened it, as if it had to be exam- 
ined very closely and she must absolutely try if it had 
kept in tune. With her gloves still on, she struck the 
first chords of Longfellow’s “ Sw T eet Home.” On hear- 
ing the first notes of this hymn to home, Kallem took 
his hat off. The others saw it, and supposing it to be 
a psalm, they did the same. 


140 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


Ragni stood with her back turned, and did not there- 
fore notice two people who came from the right — a man 
with a round, shining face, and behind him a little 
woman anxious to see and yet remain unseen. But 
then the door just in front of her was opened and a 
peasant girl looked quietly in, attracted by the sweet 
sounds. Ragni understood that it must be their servant 
come from the kitchen, and she went up to her. 

“ Are you Sigrid ? ” 

Yes, it was she. 

“ Well, I am the doctor’s wife.” 

“ I thought so,” said she, coming quite into the room. 
She was a stout, nice-looking girl. 

“Is it the first time you are in service?” asked 
Kallem. 

Yes, it was. 

“ And it is the first time we keep house,” said Kallem ; 
“ it will be great fun ! ” 

Ragni went out to the kitchen ; there she saw their 
new dinner-service, which had just been unpacked and 
washed. She was not fit for more, so she went out into 
the passage and upstairs, to be alone. The door to their 
bed-room stood open just in front of her, she went in and 
out on the balcony over the veranda. How had she 
deserved such great happiness ? What was all her long- 
ing, and all her work, compared to what now awaited 
her in a rich man’s home ? But there was a terror of 
something, through all this undeserved happiness. And 
here she again glanced over northward — was the min- 
ister’s house visible from here ? No, it was not possi- 
ble to see it. 

Josephine disliked her; she could feel it at once. 
And even if her brother thought it a shame — still he 
was very fond of his sister ; there was something about 
her that he particularly admired ; she was never mis- 
taken in such matters. 

Down below, Kallem went round the rooms. The 
two who had stood in the right-hand door had retired 
again, and the men were hard at work. It was a large 
room, there were windows in it that looked both to the 
church and the garden ; but he thought he would pro- 
pose to shut up the former. The walls were self- 
coloured, light gray, the ceiling pale blue with gold 


MANHOOD, 


141 

stars ; the paint was old and faded, only the floor had 
been freshly painted, light gray too. The room to the 
left was still being papered. Goodness ! were they not 
yet ready? Nor in the next room either ? There were 
two people at work, the man and woman who had 
appeared in the doorway. 

“ Good-day ! ” said Kallem. 

“Good-day ! ” came the answer from the round shiny 
face, with a Danish accent. Kallem went up to the 
table where the man stood cutting ; the woman was 
standing beside, but now she sidled behind him. 

“Is this your wife ? ” 

“Yes, it is; and she is my assistant too; both wife 
and assistant ; but for all that a proper kind of wife 
too/’ The little woman behind him giggled, though 
almost inaudibly. The man had prominent rolling eyes 
with a roguish twinkle in them. 

“ I fancied everything was ready.” 

“There are always hindrances to one’s work, doctor.” 

She laughed heartily, but in a muffled sort of way. 

“ Is she Danish too ?” 

“ No, she is Norwegian, but we get on very well to- 
gether for all that.” 

She dived down deeper than ever, laughing contin- 
ually. 

The room they were in was oblong ; Kallem saw 
directly that it was the dining-room ; probably also the 
waiting-room for patients. The inner room, with 
windows both to the front and to the southeast, was of 
course his work-room ; he would receive people there 
when not at the hospital. He did not go into it, but 
out of the dining-room and into the passage again. To 
the right was the kitchen door. He was met by an 
array "of beer-bottles on the kitchen dresser ; some 
empty, some full. 

“Whose are those bottles?” 

“ They belong to the saddler.” 

“To the paper-hanger, you mean ?” 

Then it dawned upon Kallem what kind of “ hin- 
drances ” lie had alluded to ; and that he was quite 
tipsy at that very moment, and his wife still tipsier! 
That was why the men had been so long before they 
moved in the piano ; they had been treated all round. 


142 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


“ Will you kindly ask the Dane to come to me here ?” 

The girl went directly, and directly too appeared the 
round, shining face with hundreds of twinkles in his eye ; 
his wife was behind him, peeping out first at one si.de, 
then at the other. 

“Are those your bottles ? ” 

“Not altogether.” 

“ Have you gone shares with the others ? ” 

“Yes, in drinking them.” 

“ But did you buy them ? ” 

“Yes, I bought the beer, but not the bottles ; they are 
to be returned.” 

The woman was heard to titter. 

“ May I ask what is your name ? ” 

“ Soren Pedersen, that’s my name.” 

“ Look here, Soren Pedersen, will you let me buy 
the bottles of you ? ” 

“ Do you mean the beer ? ” 

“ Yes, the beer.” 

“All right, then.” 

“ We shall have something, then, to drink to-night ; 
for we must work all night, we must be ready to-mor- 
row. We will help you with your work. Do you agree 
to that ? ” 

“ As you wish, doctor.” 

“ Then will you kindly sup with 11s this evening ? ” 

Then Kallem went upstairs in three-four strides * 
Ragni was out on the balcony, standing in the sun. 
She turned to him. He asked if she had finished her 
prayer ? Yes, she was quite ready. 

He, too, stood on the balcony, looking at the little 
islet at play beside the mother-island — it was visible 
from there — and the sea with its ripples, and the moun- 
tains yonder in distant grandeur. He looked over to 
the right, where the minister lived — she noticed it at 
once. 

“They would never dare to treat us as though we 
were not married, eh ? It will be amusing to see what 
they do ! ” 

She drew him in and pointed to the colour of the walls 
in their bed-room ; it was exactly as she had asked for 
it to be, white, a dull oil-colour. Everything was to be 
white up there except the long curtains and hangings 


MANHOOD. 


143 


draped from the ceiling down over both beds, at the 
balcony windows, and before the door ; they were blue 
in colour and pattern, and matched the ornamentations 
on the beds and the other furniture. Then she became 
very talkative ; but Kallem wanted to see the hospital, 
and she thought she would like to go with him. 

The first thing he wished to have altered when they 
stopped in front of it, inside the park, was that several 
beautiful old trees, that were too close to it, should be 
taken away. The hospital was a two-storied house, 
painted yellow, with exceptionally large windows, but 
very small panes. The ground floor of the building 
was brick and contained the servants’ rooms and offices ; 
it all looked very snug, with curtains in the windows 
and plenty of flowers standing in them. The entrance 
was at the left side of the house ; and there was a very 
large yard railed in by a high fence. Kallem was 
pleased to see a row of shady trees by the paling ; he 
knew that in about a fortnight he would have some 
American tents there for the use of the patients in 
summer-time. 

The door was open, but no porter (concierge) to be 
seen ; in the window there were religious books and 
tracts for sale. There was no notice put on the door to 
say when the patients might receive visits. Presently 
they saw the porter in the inner yard ; he was an elderly 
man with a searching, solemn eye ; he had spectacles 
on, but looked over the top of them and took them off 
directly he had taken in who it was. 

“Are you the new doctor?” 

“ Yes.” 

Then he took off his hat too. 

“ Welcome ! ” 

The patient he had been talking to crept on before 
them ; he was pale and had a thick woollen scarf round 
his neck, even on that warm day ; he kept at a distance 
and did not bow. The porter accompanied them. 

In the hospital there was a suite of rooms on each 
side of a light and airy corridor, those to the front were 
large and those to the yard were small, both stories were 
built in the same way. The porter was not only porter, 
but he was also steward, and the oldest inspector the 
house had ; he therefore felt called upon to introduce 


144 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


the other members of the household one by one as they 
met them. They were all respectable-looking people, 
both men and women ; there were two deaconesses 
among the latter, and they seemed the pleasantest of 
them all. 

The first thing Kallem intended to do was to do away 
with the old-established typhus-fever rooms, and to build 
a separate typhus-pavilion for winter use. The operat- 
ing-room was very light, but there must at once be a 
new polished floor put in. The ventilating apparatus 
was most faulty. With the exception of these and 
a few minor drawbacks — such as the small window- 
panes — it was a capital house, high rooms and roomy 
passages, and generally airy ; altogether he was well 
pleased. 

The beds were pretty well filled, considering the time 
of year; tubercular disease of the lungs, his special 
study, was represented by three individuals, two boys 
and a girl about ten years old, poor, thin, waxy-pale 
creatures, whom he looked forward to seeing in his 
American tent. The late owner of the infirmary, old Dr. 
Kule — an uncle of Ragni’s former husband — was dead ; 
Kallem had bought it very cheap, because just at that 
moment there was no one else who could entertain the 
idea of buying. Here he would be able to arrange him- 
self and his time exactly according to his own wishes ; 
he had great plans. The parish gave their contribution, 
and a committee, consisting of the district physician and 
one other doctor besides, had the supervision of it ; but 
he was entirely his own master. They were both of 
them quite delighted with this first visit. They went 
back to their own home in excellent spirits, but dread- 
fully hungry, took a bite of something in the kitchen 
and a glass of wine; thought fit to drink an extra glass 
on account of the important event that they were break- 
ing bread for the first time in their own house. 

Everything in the drawing-room was topsy-turvy ; but 
in spite of it Ragni made her way to the piano. She 
had often attempted translations from that foreign lit- 
erature — it had been like her own for five or six years — 
especially translations of poetry. Slightly flushed with 
the wine, and just a little shy, she struck some chords — 
begging him not to stand before her — then again more 


MANHOOD. 


MS 


chords, and with a small, gentle voice, she recited more 
than sang : 

Here let us live ! 

May our friends and our fancies, 

Our life’s by-gone chances 
Flourish and grow — 

In thoughts as in things, 

In trees as in tones, 

In voices, entwining 
Around us. 

Here may my heart 
Through thee be laid bare 
To myself and to thee 
Who wert blind — 

And joyfully, sinfully, 

Gladden thee, wound thee ; 

Though yearning with years 
For a happy reunion 
With thine. 


III. 

The next morning they were awakened by a loud 
and continued noise. When they could collect their 
thoughts they knew it was the church bells ringing for 
service ; they had slept very late, but then they had 
worked till three o’clock, that is to say, until broad day- 
light. 

Kallem was out of bed in a second, and into the bath- 
room, next door, where he took a tremendous shower- 
bath ; evidently, the former doctor had had a taste for 
that kind of thing ! And hardly was he half dressed 
before he ran out onto the balcony to look at the view. 
He shouted in to Ragni to take her shower-bath too, 
and dress herself and come out to look at it ; but she 
had felt the water so fearfully cold yesterday, she lay 
there with wide-open eyes, debating as to whether she 
should shirk it or really venture to take it. She made 
up her mind to shirk, so she quickly appeared at his 
side in a very pretty dressing-gown, which she had 
thrown round her. But although she looked so sweetly 
at him, and eagerly began praising the view and the ex- 
quisite day, he did not forget the shower-bath. Yes- 
terday she had solemnly promised that she would begin 
io 


146 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


the very first morning; susceptible to cold as she was, 
she must look upon a shower-bath as her daily bread, 
especially up here, where the change from heat to cold 

was so very sudden. Therefore ! She made the 

most piteous face, and tried to laugh it “off; but he 
pointed to the shower-bath— would she really break her 
promise ? If she broke it now, this first time, she would 
break it too often later on. She kissed him and said he 
was cruel ; he kissed her and said she was sweet ; but 
how about the shower-bath ? So she darted in and undid 
her dressing-gown, as though she meant to take the 
bath, but popped into bed instead. When he came in, 
she pulled the clothes over her head ; but without more 
ado he took up the blanket and its contents, and car- 
ried it to the door; but she begged and implored him 
to let her off, and seemed so frightened that he went 
back with his burden. She put her arms round him 
and dragged him down to her ; she kissed him and 
whispered to him, and with her sweet caresses com- 
pletely defeated his logic. 

The bells went on ringing and ringing, carriages 
drove past away from the town. Hardly had one gone 
by before another came. The door was open ; every 
time the bells stopped preparatory to the well-known 
three peals, they could hear the flies buzzing about the 
room, and the birds outside. They also heard the puff- 
ing of a little steamer out on the lake ; they had seen it 
cut across from the other coast, probably with tourists. 
There must be some festivity going on somewhere to 
account for the way people were streaming in. 

There was a light southwesterly breeze, filling the 
room each time with sweet scents; it poured in from 
the fields and trees. Through the clanging of the bells 
one could hear it whispering and sighing, the air seemed 
full of sounds. 

Shortly after, they again stood on the balcony and 
watched the people going to church ; well-packed car- 
riages drove constantly past the church and continued 
upwards. The steamer came quite close ; now the train 
whistled too. They both caught sight of two swallows 
that wereevidently playingwith their own shadows in the 
sand outside the veranda. They flew above and past 
each other, the shadows on the sand imitating each 


MANHOOD. 


147 


swoop ; the birds wore down close to the sand and then 
a little way above ; whenever they flew too high and the 
shadows disappeared, they darted down again to find 
them. She whispered to him that next year they would 
put out boxes for them to build in. 

They finished dressing and went down to lunch. 
Soren Pedersen and his wife had arrived some time 
ago, and had their meal ; they were now hard at work. 

Then they heard that everyone was bound for the 
neighbouring parish, where the clergyman, Pastor Meek, 
was to celebrate his fifty years jubilee, and to preach a 
farewell sermon. Foot passengers had been on the go 
all the morning ; now came those in carriages ; and a 
steamer full of people from the opposite coast. Meek 
had had this same living all these fifty years — “a truly 
delightful man.” 

Kallem and Ragni were lunching in the big room ; 
but their lunch was interrupted by someone knocking, 
and in came a thin, elderly man, smiling and noiseless, 
with horn spectacles on his nose ; this was Dr. Kent, 
who was temporary manager of the hospital ; he came 
from there just now. They both got up. He had a 
soft, pleasant voice, and a knowing smile accompanied 
all he said. He sat down at a little distance from them 
while they went on with their lunch, and gave a short 
account of the patients over at the “establishment,” 
and of the sanitary state of both town and country. 
He answered dryly and briefly all questions as to those 
functionaries Kallem would have to call upon, as to the 
leaders in town and parish matters, and those of the 
local government board he ought to know. The purest 
business matters became pleasant when spoken of by 
Dr. Kent. When his gig came to the door — he was go- 
ing on his rounds out in the country — Kallem asked 
leave to drive with him ; but Ragni at once did the 
same too. So they hired a larger carriage and soon 
they were all three seated in it. Just as they were start- 
ing, Ragni remembered that the piano wanted tuning 
slightly, and she asked Soren Pedersen if he knew any- 
one who could tune at any rate for the present ? Yes, 
there was Kristen Larssen. 

So the drive began with an account of Kristen Lars- 
sen. Kent told them he was born up in one of the 


148 


IN GOD'S IV A Y. 


worst and most remote districts, and had been punished 
by the law for some trifling slip — he thought it was be- 
cause he had called a tune he played, “ the forgiveness 
of sins.” Kristen Larssen was an inventor too; there 
was a knitting machine much in use now which was his 
invention, and various kinds of tools. He was a cold 
man — cold as iron in the winter time. Soren Pedersen 
and his wife were the only people he had anything to 
do with. And who were those two ? He knew nothing 
about their “antecedents she was from these parts, he 
was from Funen. They were both clever at their work ; 
but people soon found out that they drank. The min- 
ister tried to correct this failing ; he had grown at- 
tached to them from the time they had worked for him 
in his new house. Strange to say, his efforts were 
crowned with success ; not only did they give up drink, 
but Soren became a most zealous temperance man and 
very religious ; at last he knew the Bible by heart. It 
was literally true, he knew it by heart ! He often told 
them how it was his greatest delight to make Aase hear 
him, and in some few small assemblies, he would re- 
peat by heart whole chapters out of the Bible, while his 
hearers sat and followed attentively. The minister put 
his name down to get him into a Bible school, and he 
had no higher wish than to belong to it, but he expected 
Aase to be taken in too. As they did not agree to this, 
he gave up the Bible class and became unsteady again 
in everything. 

He then became acquainted with that Jack of all 
trades, Kristen Larssen, who had just settled in the 
town. Kristen Larssen had heard about Soren Peder- 
sen’s powers of learning by heart, and tried to find out 
the mechanism of it. But there was none ; the whole 
thing was a gift of God’s mercy ; all things were pos- 
sible for God. 

That is in the book of Matthew, answered Kristen 
Larssen ; but in the book of Judges it is written that 
the Lord was with Judah, but Judah could not make the 
enemy flee from the valley, because they had chariots 
of iron. 

The worthy Soren Pedersen was much shocked that 
the God of the Jews had not gained the victory over the 
chariots of iron. 




MANHOOD. 


149 


In the same book of Moses, continued Kristen Lars- 
sen, it is written, “Thou shalt not kill,” but it is written 
too that the Lord constantly gave orders to kill. So 
there are contradictions. 

This was altogether new to Soren Pedersen, and yet 
he knew his Bible by heart. He was anxious to know the 
rights of it, and at every religious meeting he demanded 
explanations. At last he had no less than a hundred 
contradictory questions to inquire into ; it was no longer 
possible to keep the peace. Half of them went into 
fits of laughter, the other half got angry. It ended by 
his being turned out of the meetings, both he and Aase. 
“I don’t know,” said Dr. Kent, “whether I may tell 
you how your brother-in-law, with his own; hands, turned 
out Soren Pedersen and his wife Aase — out of the meet- 
ing-house ! They had sat themselves down there be- 
fore anyone else, and they would not move. Your 
brother-in-law is very strong, but Soren Pedersen held 
on, until it struck the minister that he would take Aase 
first, and then they both pulled away at her as if she 
were a stick of firewood.” 

Kallem and Ragni roared with laughter at this. 

“ I myself have witnessed one of the encounters,” 
said Dr. Kent. “ The minister was holding an exam- 
ination at the school ; I am one of the school commit- 
tee. Soren Pedersen and his wife, Aase, were present, 
and everyone suspected there would be mischief. ‘ God 
cannot lie,’ said the minister. Then Soren Pedersen 
rose up and said: ‘It is written, that the Lord gave 
unto the prophets a spirit of lying.’ Again Soren Pe- 
dersen had to depart.” 

The scenery through which they were driving, as they 
listened to all these amusing anecdotes, was an elevated, 
sunny plain divided by large and small ridges of wood- 
land — or contrariwise, a wood divided by cultivated 
fields. The farms were all well built, the fields fertile, 
the road varied, first through woods, across fields, hills, 
and undulating over brooks and streams. There were 
heaps of stones in the most unexpected places, and paths 
and roads in all directions. Anyone coming from the 
prairies of Americaand the regularity of Central Europe, 
would be put in good spirits by all this variety. The 
same dazzling sunshine as yesterday, the same strong 


5 ° 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


scent from meadow and wood — and such a display of 
flowers, such singing of birds ; hark, that was the 
cuckoo ! 

It was not long till midsummer’s day, and the vegeta- 
tion was thereafter ; Ragni was enchanted with the lux- 
uriance of it all. Botany was her favourite branch 
of study, and the contrast between the flora she had 
studied, and that of the country here, interested her 
greatly. She asked if there were many places in Nor- 
way where barberry and columbine grew wild ? Dr. 
Kent thought that they must have been brought into 
the country a long time ago ; probably by the monks 
from the cloister down yonder. 

As they passed again from the meadow into a narrow 
strip of wood, principally fir-trees, she saw the linnaea 
for the third time ; she could not sit still in the carriage 
any longer ; they all got out. 

It had just begun to open its bell-shaped pink flow- 
ers ; its spicy fragrance filled the wood ; Ragni at once 
began her little whisperings to it ; if only she were al- 
lowed to be alone now — for six years they had not seen 
each other, or, indeed, as it was spring when she started, 
it was six years and a half. She gathered and lifted up 
some of them, and her eye fell on a “pyrola uniflora” 
bending low in melancholy solitude ; Kallem had just 
found the same ; she asked him what it was called in 
Norwegian ? He asked Kent if it was not St. Olaf’s 
candlestick — he asked as an apothecary, and received an 
answer from a herbarium. 

Ragni went further and further away from them both. 
The scent of the flower as she gathered it seemed to at- 
tract her still further in ; it was sent to entice her on. 
So she went further, but kept a little behind — away from 
the others. She heard them talking ; one hears so dis- 
tinctly in the wood ; she heard too a pair of startled 
birds. But here at hand was nothing but the rustling 
of her own footsteps through the grass and moss. She 
found one single wood-sorrel in flow r er, a last loit- 
erer. It looked so out of sorts midst all its clover-like 
leaves ; did it know its companions had left it ? 

The flowers all told her to go on ; indeed, both the 
linnaea, and the holy candlestick, and the wood-sorrel 
drew her on ; the latter had stood so long waiting on 


MANHOOD. 


!5i 

purpose for that. And there was Ragni — in a large 
family gathering of star-flowers ; they were all waiting 
to see her ; no one else had trodden that way this year. 
Ragni knelt down among them and told them how she 
had come from so very far away, she told it all in flower- 
fashion, without words ; speech was not necessary be- 
tween them. How she had opened one door after the 
other to find her way back to Norway; each time she 
had opened one, there had been another beyond. . . . 

until at last she was with them all. As soon as she 
saw the linnaea she knew that she had reached the end. 
This was the innermost of all. All great dangers from 
outside, direct from the sea, all that strength and cruelty, 
variable and busy, all this splendour and alarm, all im- 
pels us further and further in ; right in here we must 
come to understand that everything does not fall in a 
thousand pieces. It is they who are in there who can 
control all. 

“ We have been waiting for you too. Here we keep 
the innermost secret.” 

“ Oh, tell it to me ! ” 

“ Be kind to others.” 

“Indeed, I think that is the only thing I have a talent 
for. But if the others will not ” 

“ Let the others be as they will ; but be you kind.” 

Then she understood, because she had gone so deep 
in. She understood now what had the greatest strength. 
The star-flowers. 

“ Ragni,” shouted Kallem, in the distance, the wood re- 
sounded with his clear voice. “Yes ! ” Some of the fam- 
ily must go with her, she gathered them and took them up. 

Then she hastened back again nearer to the road. 
On the edge of the wood stood an “ actea ” — it seemed 
to stand there just to show the way in, if she had got 
out of the carriage there. Now it wished to join the 
party. And just by the road, well hidden under the 
bank, was a whole party of lilies of the valley ; where 
could her eyes have been ? They knew well enough 
where she came from, for they, too, had been posted as 
sentinels to show the way in. They saw and under- 
stood one another directly ; but that is always the way 
amongst those of the same family. Some of them must 
go with her too. 


152 


IiV GOD’S WAY. 


“ Ragni ! ” shouted Kallem. 

“Yes, ves ! ” and she came out on to the road and 
saw how far behind she was. 

The two men were standing by the carriage, talking ; 
they were on the top of the bank, and Kallem’s tall 
figure and the other’s little slight one stood out clearly 
defined. Both of them had their hands full. As she 
hurried toward them she could hear Kallem discours- 
ing ; it was on a branch of black alder which he swung 
as he stood there ; he repeated in German, a German 
botanist’s delight over this stately poison-bearer which 
he had come across in Norway. Dr. Kent presented 
her with a “ polygula amara;” he knew that the little 
blue flower would be new to her coming from America. 
She thanked him warmly. They got into the carriage 
and began at once arranging their treasures, and begged 
Ragni to choose what she liked ; they had gone through 
a small bog ; Kent had the flower of a bog-fir fastened 
in his coat, and they had both gathered everything, 
down to the very buttercup, “that wild beast,” said 
Ragni ; she wouldn’t have it ; it was so “ muddy ” too. 

“You are aesthetic in everything,” said Kallem. She 
shot a glance at him, sweet as the scent of her flowers. 

“ Do you notice that we are quite alone on the road ?” 
remarked Dr. Kent he told them that everyone was at 
church, as old Pastor Meek was to preach a farewell ser- 
mon on this his fifty years jubilee day. When lie was 
twenty years old he had become curate to his own 
father — that was in those times — and he had inherited 
the living. He was now seventy years old, and was go- 
ing to start on a journey abroad with his grand-daugh- 
ter. He must be a strong man ? Yes, and led a healthy 
life ; always on the move, always busy. He was the go- 
between here. Go-between ? Yes, each district must 
have one to intercede for science and for practical mat- 
ters. Much of the prosperity of this district proceeds 
from him and has been passed on to others. Then he 
is popular ? The most popular man of the neighbour- 
hood. How is he “in the pulpit?” “Well, he lias stood 
there now fifty years and related anecdotes. At first 
this was made fun of, and there were some who thought 
it profanation ; now there are several who have followed 
his example.” 


MANHOOD. 


*53 


“ What sort of anecdotes are they ? ” 

The last one that Dr. Kent had heard was about a 
woman who had been thirty years in prison in St. Louis, 
in America, and who, although she was seventy years 
old, was the worst of all the prisoners. Once the pris- 
oners had to be moved to another prison which was 
under the management of a woman who was a Quaker. 
The old woman refused to be moved ; she resisted with 
all her strength, and at last they had to tie her in a 
chair and carry her away. As they arrived with her, 
the woman who had the management of the prison 
stood in the doorway and received the furious old creat- 
ure. “Unloose her!” she said. “But is it safe?” 
“ Unloose her !” And they did so. As soon as the old 
woman w T as unbound, her new superintendent bent 
down over her, put her arm round her neck, and gave 
her a kiss of welcome as from one sister to another. 
Then the old woman fell on her knees and asked : “ Do 
you really believe that there is some good in me?” 
From that time she invariably was quite obedient. 

Here Kent and Kallem left the carriage ; they had to 
turn up to a peasant’s house a little way back from the 
road. There was a black dog lying in front of the gal- 
lery ; he looked at the carriage and barked ; but only 
once or tw T ice, then he went down a few steps toward 
them, sniffed at them all round, and then went back 
and laydown. 

There was no one else to be seen. The driver turned 
the horses and drove to one side. The two doctors 
went in to the patient, and Ragni walked up and down 
the yard. Through the window she could see an old 
man in bed and his old wife sitting beside him ; she sang 
to him with trembling voice, and did not stop even when 
the door was opened behind her. 

Ragni looked about her in the yard ; then went and 
sat down on the store-house steps. 

Nothing has such a quieting influence on one as a 
peasant’s farm at rest. Not even the wood, for there is 
always a rustle or sound of something, and one must be 
on the look-out both sitting or lying down ; nor yet the 
sea when it is quiet, for it never can be perfectly at 
rest ; nor the meadow, for that swarms with life and we 
can see it too around us. But a peasant’s farm which 


54 


IN GOD'S IV. AY. 


is not at work — the hens going about scratching and 
picking up food, make you feel comfortable, the dog 
lying down, and the cat that creeps stealthily a few 
paces, stops, then creeps on again, and the ploughs 
leaning up against the harrows, the grinding-stones 
standing dry, the carts with shafts down, the dinner-bell 
silent ; everything that has been at work rests like you, 
and that which still moves about only adds to the 
general peace. Should you see a pig in the distance 
rooting up the ground, it is entirely occupied with that ; 
or a horse champing and whisking away flies, that is its 
pleasure ; should the little birds come and chirp their 
greeting to you, it increases the light-heartedness which 
is the foundation of all peace. 

Suddenly, in the midst of this peaceful rest, the fright 
from that meeting with Josephine came over her. Was 
there nothing in her conscience that could accuse her ? 
No, a thousand times, no! Not even her sister’s children ? 
No, for she could not even have lived for them under 
such circumstances. What then \ What had she done ? 
She had loved him. And why should she not do so ? 

The quiet was over ; she went up above the house 
and found there two kinds of “ orobus ” not very far 
apart, first of all the bird-pea out on the meadow, and 
then one other in a cup with petals ; she could not 
remember the name of the latter. As she went down 
the patli again she found a splendid cock’s-comb and a 
third kind of violet ; the others had already given her 
two kinds. What flowers there were ! Look there ! 
The loveliest veronica ; ah, the head fell ; but there is 
another, that will keep. Afterwards she heard that the 
fragile flower is called here “ man’s faith.” 

Again she went in to the farm-yard ; through the 
window of the bed-room she saw Kallem with his ear 
pressed to the old man’s chest. Dr. Kent soon came out 
and the wife with him ; he screamed at her, but she heard 
almost nothing. Kallem looked so tall standing there in 
the door, now he came to join her. How she loved him, 

They were sitting together in the evening in the 
doctor’s work-room ; it was now all arranged as it was 
to be, with the exception of the books. Soren Pedersen, 
followed by his wife Aase, came in from the passage 


MANHOOD. 


155 


through the dining-room ; he looked cunning, she 
looked alarmed ; they announced that the minister and 
his wife were just coming in at the gate ! 

Kallem saw that Ragni turned pale. As the others 
were present, however, he said nothing but : “Come 
along ! ” went into the drawing-room, and from thence 
out in the passage to receive them. 

The meeting was a stiff one. The minister begged 
they would excuse their coming so late, but it was the 
most convenient time for him, he had just come from 
evening service. They only came in to ask if Kallem 
and his wife would go home witli them to supper ? On 
Sundays a clergyman is seldom his own master before 
the evening. 

His voice had still a little of the solemnity of a sermon 
in it, and there was a reflection of church in both 
countenance and manner. Josephine stood and looked 
about her, in which her husband speedily followed her 
example. 

He thought it all very snug and cosy, and the piano 
was a “splendid piece of furniture.” As they were look- 
ing at it, Josephine opened her lips for the first time, and 
turning to Ragni, said quickly : “ I hear you play so 
beautifully ! ” 

“ Oh ” 

“Won’t you play something for us?” The minister 
added : “ Please do ! ” 

Ragni looked at her husband — as one who is drown- 
ing looks for help. “ Ragni requires to be in the proper 
mood to be able to play,” said he. 

“Very likely she is tired,” said the minister, excusing 
her ; they sat down, the minister and Kallem opposite 
each other, Josephine on one side ; Ragni remained 
standing. 

“ Of course you must both of you be tired,” continued 
the minister ; “you have been travelling now for so long, 
and then arranging the house here ; 1 heard from Dr. 
Kent that you had very nearly finished ? ” 

Yes, so they were ; but they had had capital help from 
Soren Pedersen and his wife Aase. Ragni was afraid 
that those two were still in the dining-room, and hurried 
in to see ; but they were gone, and were not in the 
doctor’s room either. 


IN GOD'S WAY . 


! 5 6 

The minister’s face had assumed quite a fatherly ex- 
pression. “We have been obliged to employ Soren 
Pedersen and his wife because the people we otherwise 
employ were not at liberty. But one ought not to give 
work to that kind of people.” 

“Indeed?” 

“ Oh, they are good workers ; but they drink up 
everything they earn, and then stay away from their work 
for days ; it was the same here too. They scandalize 
the whole congregation.” 

“Dear me, that’s a pity.” 

In passing Kallem, Ra^ni stroked his head with her 
hand ; she had to fetch something off the piano. The 
minister was nothing abashed by the doctor’s flighty 
tone. 

“We have striven to do what we could for them both 
— yes, for she drinks just as much as he does. You 
would be astonished if you heard how kind everyone 
has been to them. But all in vain, and worse than in 
vain. But I will not go further into that story.” He 
looked at his wife, who sat there in her tight-fitting 
dress, stiff and impenetrable, a piece of perfection 
from top to toe. Her eyes so well trained that they 
saw everything without appearing to see. She would 
have liked Kallem to have come and spoken to her. 
Ragni stood farther back, unseen by the others, but di- 
rectly opposite him. 

“It is provoking,” he said, “that the former doctor 
built his house so close to the hospital. It is not pleas- 
ant to have strangers so near one.” 

“Yes, but the old man built it for his brother-in-law. 
And now he is dead too.” 

“ So I hear ; if I could afford to sink more money in 
houses, I would buy this, although I should have no use 
for it.” 

Josephine turned half round, doubtless to see if Rag- 
ni still stood there. “I don’t think it is for sale,” said 
she ; “ I know the heirs.” Then there was a pause for a 
little while. 

The minister started a new subject ; that same morn- 
ing lie had been reading in the Morgenblad about 
the general state of insecurity all over America. He 
spoke like one who knew all about it, and turned con- 


MANHOOD . 


*57 


tinually to his wife ; if lie did look at the others — for 
instance at Ragni, who had just come back from Amer- 
ica — it was merely a passing glance ; he invariably re- 
turned to his wife. 

Pastor Tuft was a stately, good-looking man, espe- 
cially as a certain degree of stoutness had filled in his 
bony face ; he had a pleasant vuicfc, and his Melanc- 
thon eves sparkled and glistened at all that was said. 
His speech and manners were, if anything, persuasive ; 
but one felt his power under cover of all his mildness. 

His wife quite unexpectedly made an upward move- 
ment with her head. “ Of course it must be time to be 
going now,” said he, as he rose from his seat; “I am 
quite forgetting myself. Well — will you go with us ? ” 

Josephine got up too, so did Kallem. But he, too, 
had a wife who could give glances, warning and implor- 
ing. 

“ Thanks, but we are both tired, we will put it off till 
another time.” 

And so they accompanied the others to the door. 
Kallem then went to the window and looked out after 
them as they walked away, both so tall and strong-look- 
ing. Soon they had left the church behind them ; every- 
one who met them greeted them most respectfully. He 
stood on there even after they were out of sight. He 
walked up and down the room a few times, then he 
turned a somersault (made a wheel on his hands). 
“ Go and fetch Soren Pedersen and his wife Aase to 
me ! ” — but he went himself. They were not to be 
found anywhere ; Sigrid told him they had gone di- 
rectly the minister and his wife came. “ Hang it all, 
now you’ll see they are making themselves tipsy! Just 
go down to them and invite them to come to supper 
with us. Say we are quite alone.” Off went the girl ; 
Kallem shouted out after her : “ Insist upon their com- 
ing, whether they want to or not.” 

“Now listen to me, Mr. saddler!” said the doctor, 
when they both appeared in the parlor again, the wife 
behind the husband ; “listen to me. The minister says 
that you drink, Pedersen, both, you and your wife, and 
that he cannot get you to give it up ? ” 

“The minister speaks the truth.” 

“ But it is a dreadful disease, Pedersen.” 


i 5 8 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


“ Oh, yes — in the long run.” 

“ Will you leave it to me to cure you ? ” 

“ Oh, most willingly, doctor! but seriously, now ; will 
it take a long time ? ” 

“ Two minutes.” 

“Two minutes ?” He smiled ; but before the smile 
had vanished, Kallem was upon him with his eyes, which 
had a strange and startling expression. The saddler 
changed colour, he retreated a few steps. The doctor 
followed and told him to sit down. He did it without 
hesitation. “Look at me! ” Aase was fit to faint. “ Sit 
down, you too!” said the doctor over his shoulder to 
her, and she collapsed into a chair. Yesterday already 
the doctor had seen what kind of people he had to do 
with ; it did not take two minutes, before Soren Peder- 
sen was completely mesmerized and his wfife Aase too, 
though she had only been looking on. The doctor 
commanded them to open their eves again ; they both 
did so at once. “Now listen here, Soren Pedersen ! 
You just leave off drinking brandy- or spirits in any 
shape or form whatever ; no more wine either, nor 
strong beer — not for one whole month. Do you hear? 
When that month is past — it is now half-past six — you 
come here to me on the stroke of the hour. And you 
too, Aase. Every time he wants to drink, you must cry 
out. And afterwards you can sing, both of you.” 

“ But we can’t sing.” 

“You will sing all the same.” 


IV. 

Josephine left the town, she took her boy with her to 
the west-country, to have some sea-bathing ; the minis- 
ter was soon to follow them, he had not had a holiday 
since he had taken holy orders. He had come here as 
curate, directly after his examination, and had so com- 
pletely gained the good-will of his congregation, that 
when, two years ago, the town and country parishes 
were separated, the congregation voted unanimously 
for him, and he got the living. He had worked very 
hard for about six years ; he much required a little rest. 
Josephine went up to her brother’s house one day when 


MANHOOD. 


159 


he was not at home, she announced that she was about 
to travel, said good-bye, and left a greeting for her 
brother. 

Ragni understood at once that this journey had sim- 
ply been arranged so as to escape the necessity of in- 
troducing her into society ; they would not help to 
smootli her path. Site did not mention it to the unsus- 
picious Kallem. He soon forgot the whole affair, for 
he got such an amount of work to do. As Kent wished 
to go abroad, Kallem would have to take both their 
practices, in consideration of his having attended to the 
hospital before Kallem’s arrival. The third doctor who 
belonged to the place was a young military surgeon, 
he was now at the manoeuvres. His name was Arentz ; 
he was possessed of a remarkably broad, powerful chest. 
Kallem recognized, by the accuracy of his knowledge, 
the very words of the books he had studied from ; at 
first he had great difficulty in not calling him Niemeyer, 
but he admired his upright and honorable character. 
When Kallem found that this life passed on highways 
and streets was becoming quite unbearable to him, he 
thought of asking Arentz to help him ; if he wished to 
become an independent man, he must arrange things 
very differently. • 

Ragni saw him gulp his food down in the middle of 
the day and return home in the evening. Sometimes 
he sat on the veranda with her for a while, or took a 
turn arm in arm in the garden, or helped her if there 
was anything she was busy with ; but seldom — as he 
had to go in to his books. A great change took place, 
however, when his colleague returned ; his only thought 
was that of regaining lost time, so now he was a fixture 
in the laboratory or office. Ragni very soon installed 
herself in this sanctum ; she got her own chair, her own 
book shelf ; in fact, the office became the sitting-room. 

They each read their own book by the hour, scarcely 
exchanging ten words. He had got into a long, self- 
engrossing study, and had no idea what he looked like 
when he, at intervals during his reading, stretched full 
length on the sofa, silently gating at her ; or, as was 
generally the case, stood looking out of the windows. 
If he did move away a few steps, it would only be to 
return again at once to his old place at the window. 


i6o 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


He declared that there was no place where he could 
think with so much ease as there ; this was an inherit- 
ance from his father. 

He was much attached to his home, and seldom re- 
turned to it without a grateful feeling, and went about as 
happy and light-hearted as a bird. After dinner he was 
very fond of listening to music ; but did not always as 
much as remark what Ragni was playing. 

But she ? Each day she bound herself faster and 
faster to the animate and inanimate things of her home. 
She again called him her “white pasha,” her piano “a 
fairy tale.” “Now for a fairy tale ! ” she said, when she 
felt inclined to play, and soon taught him to do the 
same. She called their bed-room, “amongst the stars.” 
The pigeons which were given her at Whitsuntide, she 
called “ her Whitsuntide-lilies ;” Sigrid she called “ the 
seven-armed woman.” When she and Kallem were sit- 
ting reading in the office, she felt as if they were out 
sailing, each in their own boat, each to their own coun- 
try. “ Shall we go in and have a sail ? ” was what she 
called it. 

He had discovered by her letters from America how 
fond she was of using figurative language : “We are 
each working slowly toward each other at opposite 
ends of a tunnel through the world,” she wrote in one 
of her letters, and always kept returning to the subject 
of the tunnel ; at last “ they had reached so near to one 
another that she could hear him speak !” About the 
steamers, “ that swim above,” passing each other with 
their letters, she wrote that “ the desire of the one at- 
tracted the other after it.” 

One evening that they were sitting on the veranda 
(it was raining, but they were protected by the project- 
ing roof), she said : “A house like this should have a 
head.” 

“ A head ? ” 

“Yes, a head between the wings as every worthy hen 
has.” 

“ Oh, that’s what you mean, is it ? ” 

“ I always feel as if I were under a pair of wings, 
being hatched.” 

“ Tell me how it is that you did not use biblical fig- 
ures of speech in your youth ? ” 


MANHOOD. 


161 


“ Because I had a father who taught me what the 
origin of everything was from my tenth year ; plants, 
animals, and people all-belongto one family — that was a 
doctrine that I loved ! After that I got a step-father 
who was a clergyman, and insisted that the earth and 
human beings had been created perfect from the begin- 
ning, and that everything was made for the use of man ; 
but I did not believe it. My own father was a quiet, 
delicate man, I loved him dearly ; I was afraid of my 
step-father, he was such a strong, violent man.” 

Kallem asked her to give him a description of her 
childhood and education, but she answered decidedly, 
no. 

Kristen Larssen had got work to do at the doctor’s he 
had arranged his laboratory and put up the ventilators, 
etc. Kallem had never had anything to do with a more 
silent, suspicious man ; but neither with a more clever 
one. He came one Sunday morning in the beginning 
of August, arrayed in his best clothes, a long tailed 
brown cloth coat, with extraordinarily tight sleeves, an 
old rusty waistcoat, much too short, and a pair of gray 
trousers made of the so-called English leather. He 
went about bare-headed, as a rule ; but on grand occa- 
sions he carried a hat in his hand ; he could not bear 
anything on his head, unless the w’eather were fearfully 
cold. There he stood in the office, tall, thin, with closel v- 
cropped hair, well-scrubbed face with black stubby beard. 
His whole appearance was lightened up by a white col- 
lar spread over a red-striped scarf. The doctor asked 
him to sit down, and inquired what was the matter with 
him. His answer was — first an inquiring glance, and 
then that he had not complained of his health. 

Kallem remarked by the answer he had just given 
him, that it was not easy to tell him what he wanted ; 
but he thought to himself : Now, my friend, you may be 
content. 

At last he said that he knew that “the doctor’s wife” 
had been five or six years in America ; and that perhaps 
she might have some English books to lend him. As he 
had taught himself a little English, perhaps she would 
tell him how to proceed further. 

Was he thinking of emigrating ? Oh, that would not 


ii 


i 62 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


be freedom ; “ to go and be a slave for the Norwegians 
. . . over there too ; no, I don’t feel drawn toward 

that.” 

“ How old are you ? ” 

“ About forty, or rather more.” 

He looked over fifty. 

“ I daresay my wife would with pleasure teach you 
English, Larssen, maybe in the evenings.” 

No, he would not hear of that on any account. Kal- 
lem, however, explained to him that pronunciation must 
be learned by ear ; Ragni happened to come in at that 
moment, and Kallem told her that if Kristen Larssen 
knew English, it would be like giving him a pair of 
wings. She blushed, for it was not the first time that 
her husband had given her some tiresome work to do ; 
of course, he thought she had not sufficient occupation. 
She, however, would have preferred not to agree. But 
as she stood looking at Kristen Larssen, she remembered 
that her husband had never met a cleverer man ; she be- 
gan to feel a certain amount of compassion for him. 
He was studying an English book at that moment, and 
could barely understand what it was about. She not 
only proposed to help him, but tried to persuade him 
to accept her proffered help. On that very same after- 
noon, about five o’clock, they began ; they sat spelling 
through a very easy book. When Kallem came home 
he found them with their heads close together, poring 
over the same book, the one black and rugged, the 
other small and well-formed with reddish hair ; the one 
a stiff, grubby face with furrows and wrinkles ; the 
other possessed warm bright eyes and dazzling colour- 
ing, and was full of spirit. She held her handkerchief 
to her mouth, it was evidently a struggle for her to sit 
beside him at all. Kallem then remembered that he 
himself had remarked that Kristen Larssen’s breath was 
not of the sweetest. Kallem at once arranged that 
they were each to have their own book and sit at op- 
posite sides of the table. As soon as ever she could, 
she escaped. To make up for this Kallem invited Lars- 
sen to spend the evening with them, and tried to thaw 
him up a little; but no, he was just as stiff and wary 
when he left as when he came. Kallem’s thoughts 
were much taken up by him. Who in all the world 


MANHOOD. 163 

could he be, and how had he managed to become like 
this ? 

One day Kallem had occasion to go to his house. 
There he found a thin, stiff-looking woman who was 
Kristen Larssen’s wife, her head wrapped in a black 
shawl ; if the husband had too little covering on his head, 
she certainly had too much. No children. No fire on the 
hearth ; she said she cooked the food for many days at 
a time. She went about knitting with a shrewd and sus- 
picious air. Kallem began to think they had agreed to 
live as cheaply as possible, so as to scrape as much 
money together as they could for the journey they 
wished to take. As he wanted an excuse for this visit, 
he had taken a revolver with him that would notgo off ; 
it was in its case, so he had taken case and all with him, 
but only remarked now that the ammunition for the re- 
volver was in it too. He showed it to her. 

“ Oh, there are many of that kind here,” she answer- 
ed, and took it up without the slightest fear. “ What a 
charming weapon,” she said, and laid it down, locked it, 
and put the case on a shelf over her husband’s work- 
table. Both the shelf and the table were covered with 
things waiting to be mended. 

“ He has too much work out just now,” said she, “such 
trifles must wait.” 

Work-room, kitchen, and bed-room were all com- 
prised in this one apartment. A bell hung on the wall y a 
table, a bed, a long bench, and three wooden chairs ; 
otherwise the room was completely bare — then a nasty 
strong smell. 

He went home past Soren Pedersen, the saddler’s shop. 
Kallem had helped him to begin this shop, he was get- 
ting on well. There stood Kristen Larssen, with a glass 
in one hand, a bottle in the other, and Soren Peder- 
sen and his wife were screaming or singing in front of 
the glass and bottle ; it sounded like the long melan- 
choly howling of a dog. Kristen Larssen laughed with 
a laugh that came from the very essence of his being. 
There was an unctuous satisfaction in this outburst, the 
exposure of a malicious heart’s innermost feelings, an 
explorer’s hallelujah of wildest delight. Was it that he 
took an interest in these two people ? Who knows ? 
Did he repeat this every day ? 


164 


IN GOD'S IV. AY. 


Ragni soon had cause again to feel Kallem’s talent 
of making work for everyone. 

They were to meet old Pastor Meek and his grand- 
daughter, Tilla Kraby, at a small party given by Dr. 
Kent; they had just returned from a trip abroad, but 
we're to start again immediately. They had been made 
much of during this short, and in all probability last, visit 
to these parts of the country ; this party was given for 
them, and Kallem and his wife, who otherwise did not 
go out much, went to it solely to have a look at them. 
The guests of the evening were very late in com- 
ing, but in the meantime a very stout lady, barely 
thirty years of age, was introduced to Ragni ; she was 
bright and good-looking. She startled Ragni by saying : 
“I don’t know whether it will be a disagreeable piece 
of news to you to hear that I am Sbren Rule’s sister.” 
As she remarked how very uncomfortable Ragni looked, 
she quickly took her aside : “ Pray do not think other- 
wise than that I should have acted exactly as you did,” 
she whispered. “ And particularly if I had met a man 
like your husband ” — she pressed Ragni’s arm. She 
was clever and free and easy, and had little idea that she 
was torturing the delicate feelings of the being whose 
arm she held. The fact that her face and figure had 
a resemblance to the “ whale tribe ” was enough ; Rag- 
ni recognized everything, even the peculiarity of the 
“ swimmers ;” she could not help thinking of pork. At 
last old Pastor Meek and his grand-daughter appeared ; 
their host and his sister — Dr. Kent was not married — 
went to receive them with almost all the rest of the com- 
pany after them. One could distinguish amongst the 
“ How do you do’s ” and “ Welcomes ” of the foremost, re- 
marks from those who were behind. “ How good-looking 
lie is!” “ What a traveller Tilla is ! ” In the meanwhile, 
Kallem and Ragni stood by and wondered who it was 
they were like ; they seemed to recognize their faces. 

Pastor Meek was a man of medium height, broad- 
shouldered, but rather stout. He carried his head high, 
it was broad and glistening, encircled by thick white 
haft. “Now I know!” whispered Ragni, “I am sure 
they are related to that young man we met the first day 
we were here. Of course you remember him, he was so 
crood-looking.” 

o o 


MANHOOD. 165 

“ Yes, of course, that’s it ! The same arched face. 
They might perfectly belong to the Bourbons.” 

The old man thanked the company for their welcome 
in a low voice, but he spoke slowly. His eyes were not 
cheerful, on the contrary, t hey were wistful and resigned. 
He did not give one the impression of being a deter- 
mined man, but of being kind-hearted and thoughtful. 
When any of the officials of high standing spoke to him, 
he put on a stiff, ceremonious manner, quite in the old 
style. 

“The new doctor” was introduced, and Free Lilli 
Bing said to Ragni, as if she knew all about it : “ Oh, 
how you two must suit each other ! May I introduce 
you Free Kallem, Froken Kraby ?” They bowed to one 
another rather shyly, but began to talk of the young 
man whom Froken Kraby was like ; he was her nephew 
and was very musical. This led to their speaking of mu- 
sic, and they never left one another’s side for the rest of 
the evening. 

Ragni had seldom — one may say never — with the ex- 
ception of Kallem, found anyone who had so entirely 
taken up her thoughts. This quiet, and yet at the same 
time bright, blondine was so charming, and all she said 
was the expression of her own thoughts. Alas ! she had 
to leave the town in a few days forever ! That this was 
the first, and perhaps the last, time they were ever to 
meet, drew them with a kind of melancholy sweetness 
to each other. Ragni agreed on this account to play 
when her host, later in the evening, in his chaffing way, 
asked her to do so ; she wished her new friend to learn 
to know her as well as possible. 

“ Do stand so that I may see a face I know,” she whis- 
pered, and then began Solveig’s song from “ Per Gynt.” 
They had probably expected a showy piece, not such a 
simple meloc^v ; but when the piano had finished “sing- 
ing,” they were all so charmed that the town magistrate, 
who was general spokesman on such occasions, begged 
her to repeat it ; which she readily did. Then followed 
the Wizard’s March, so unutterably weird ; directly after 
that Selmer’s “ Child’s Frolics,” such a delicate, charm- 
ing contrast ; she played it with the same clear under- 
standing and feeling of the smallest nuances ; then 
came a quiet, old-fashioned song by Sinding, each note 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


1 66 

like a separate word ; then a bright, lively song by 
Svendsen ; and finished up with a festival march by 
Selmer. She was not at all nervous to-day, her eyes 
flashed out volumes to Tilla, and from her to many 
others, volumes of all sorts of enchanted tales. The 
company was much entertained ; the town magistrate 
marched about like a braying trumpet. Old Meek 
came up to her with old-fashioned gallantry ; Tilla whis- 
pered to her : “ Grandfather is so musical.” 

An hour later, old Pastor Meek went away ; he never 
stayed longer than that at a party ; his grand-daughter 
left with him, and Kallem and Ragni joined them. 

The evening was mild, considering that it was the end 
of August, when there were always such sudden changes 
after sunset ; still it was not so mild but what they 
were obliged to have on both cloaks and overcoats. 
There were people out walking everywhere. When they 
came to the Kallem’s house, Ragni, who otherwise was 
so very retiring and shy, asked if they would not go in 
with them for a little while, and the old man answered 
politely that if there was the slightest hope of hearing 
some more music, the*invitation was only too accept- 
able. So the lamps were lighted in the room, the piano 
opened, and an Italian barcarole went rowing away out 
through the open windows. Old Pastor Meek was de- 
lighted, and ventured to ask whether his grand-son, who 
was at the school here, might come and hear Free Kallem 
play— of course only if it was quite convenient. Un- 
fortunately, he was so taken up with his music that he 
had reached the age of nineteen without having passed 
his student’s examination ; but as there was no help for it, 
it was just as well he should hear good music. Ragni 
replied that it would be a pleasure to her. Kallem asked 
if he should go to him and tell him he could come ? The 
old man was most grateful to him, and vvould be still 
more so, if at the same time the doctor would examine 
him and see what was the matter with him ; there was 
something wrong. Kallem said that he had noticed it 
too, and thought he would be able to find out what it was. 

The old man sat down to the piano : 

“ Now you shall hear one of his songs,” said he. 
And with fingers not so stiff as might have been ex- 
pected, and with a low voice, as though one were fin- 


MANHOOD. 167 

gering a church bell — particularly with a peculiar use of 
head-voice, he hummed : 

When does the morning dawn ? 

When golden rays are floating 
O’er the snow-covered heights 
Deep down in the dark rifts, 

Lifts 

The stem that turns to the light 
Till it feels like an angel with wings. 

Then it is morning, 

Bright clear morning. 

But in stormy weather, 

And when my heart is sad. 

There’s no morn for me, 

None. 

Surely the morning has dawned 
When the flowers have burst into bloom, 

And the birds having broken their fast, 

Are chirping a promise that 
The woods 

Shall have fresh green crowns as a gift. 

The brook have a sight of the sea. 

Then it is morning, 

Bright, clear morning. 

But in stormy weather, 

And when my heart is sad, 

There’s no morn for me, 

None. 

When does the morning dawn ? 

When the strength that glows through 
Sorrow and storm, awakens 
The sun in thy soul, so thy bosom 
Warmly 

Embraces the world in this cause : 

To be truly good to each and all ! 

Then it is morning, 

Bright, clear morning. 

The greatest strength thou knowest, 

And the most dangerous too — 

Is it that thou would’st have ? 

Yes. 

Both voice and accompaniment were peculiar. Ragni 
exclaimed : “ Oh, how it all floats away ! ” 

Kallem asked whose words they were — evidently a 
woman’s ? Tilla answered that it was taken from a news- 
paper ; it was doubtless a translation. But when the 


168 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


others had left them, Ragni confided to Kallem that the 
w woman’s words ” was one of her translations ! His 
cousin had got it into a Norwegian-American paper ; 
and from that it had gone further still. This coinci- 
dence was sufficient to make Kallem go the very next 
day to Karl Meek — and three days later the latter, with 
his piano, books, and clothes, was established up in a 
large attic in Kallem’s house, the one that looked out to 
the park. Kallem had overcome Ragni’s strongest op- 
position. 


V. 

From that time there sat at their table a tall, long- 
haired individual, with legs twisted round those of the 
chair, with long red fingers always covered with chil- 
blains, and so clammy that Ragni could not touch them. 
Nor could she bring herself to speak to him after what 
Kallem had told her about him ; all the good and pre- 
possessing qualities that she had seen in him at their first 
meeting had been effaced by what she had heard. He 
entered the room quickly, as if lie had practised it, and 
then his coat or his sleeve caught in the door handle, or 
he did not shut the door the first time he tried, or his 
legs tripped him up, or he dragged a chair along with 
him, or knocked up against the servant who had just 
put down something on the table and was leaving the 
room. He never looked anyone in the face, his really 
fine eyes were sleepy and dull, his cheeks were ashen- 
gray ; lie studied the patterns on the plate, on the Chi- 
nese bread-basket which stood in front of him. He 
never uttered a word ; if anyone spoke to him he was 
so startled that he answered “ yes ” or “no” as if he 
had hot cinders in his mouth. But he ate — accordingto 
Ragni’s way of reckoning— like a carpenter’s horse. 
And then, when lie wiped his clammy hands on his 
trousers or up in his thick greasy hair, he was worse 
than Kristen Larssen. 

This disgusting youth at her table every blessed day, 
and in the evenings Kristen Larssen ! To say nothing 
of all the old women Kallem brought in to her so that 
she might supply them with warm woollen things; cliii- 


MANHOOD. 169 

dren, too, who sometimes were to be clothed from top 
to toe — his tuberculous friends ! 

Not only did she feel repelled by the actual persons, 
but every door was left open ; she had not a corner 
where she could be at liberty, nor could she call her 
time her own. There was no use talking to him about 
it, as long as that, which was her greatest horror, was 
his greatest pleasure. There was a little jealousy, too, 
mixed up with it : he did not think enough about her 
and her doings. He had quite put on one side that af- 
fair with his sister ; the minister and his wife had long 
since returned to town, Josephine had paid them a fly- 
ing visit one morning in their garden, with some flowers 
from old Kallem’s grave ; the brothers-in-law met in 
the street and by sick-beds ; then, too. Kallem some- 
times met his sister, who was very good to the poor ; 
but she did not come to him, nor he to her ; neither 
was there any party given in their honor at the minis- 
ter’s house, as everyone had expected ; in fact, there 
were no more parties at all. Not for a moment did 
Ragni doubt the reason of this. Kallem did not under- 
stand how this unspoken doubt worried her ; nor could 
he be made to see that in a way it shut her out from 
the town ; and she would not worry him with it. He 
had the privilege of the busy man, to put everything 
on one side which did not seem “clear” to him. In 
his daily tubercular chase, the old women and children 
whom he brought in his train were more to him than 
“all religious disputes and unfortunately, more too 
than the comfort and sense of beauty which for her 
were an absolute necessity. 

At the further end of the large hospital yard was a 
long provision store and woodhouse, etc. Kallem had a 
hall for gymnastics fitted up there, and he and the 
ashen-gray young man spent most of their evenings 
there after six o’clock. As long as this lasted, lie came 
home very punctually, did his own exercises, then ar- 
ranged a class and was himself the leader. It was a 
miserable affair to begin with, but with his accustomed 
energy he brought order and go into it. The timid 
youth had hardly touched his piano since he had been 
there, he was afraid of Free Kallem. So Kallem went 
up to him every evening for half an hour with his book ; 


7 o 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


lie made Karl play whilst he sat there. In his capacity 
as doctor he had forced his way to his confidence ; he 
looked after him with watchful friendliness, and soon 
the youth came into the room more at his ease, and did 
not sneak away so quickly. And at last she took cour- 
age — after earnest entreaties from Kallem — and said to 
the youth one Sunday morning: “No, don’t go up- 
stairs ; come, let us try to play some duets together ! 
We will take easy pieces,” she added. He was in de- 
spair; but as good luck would have it, he nearly over- 
turned the piano stool as he was going to sit down, and 
almost upset hers too in trying to save his own, and at 
that they both began to laugh ; that helped them through 
the worst. She sat there fresh and slim, in a red silk 
dress, with lace at her neck and wrists, her long, white 
piano fingers well away from his long red ones ; her in- 
telligent face often turned toward him, a scent of mig- 
nonette from her dress, and the perfume of her hair 
. . . he trembled with shyness. And how ugly he 

thought himself! And the smell of his hair! He strug- 
gled so to play, that he was soon tired and made stupid 
mistakes. “ I am sure you are not inclined for it to-day,” 
said she, and got up. 

He went off like a beaten hound ; he shrunk from all, 
he writhed, and for the ninth or ninetieth time made up 
his mind to run away. He never appeared at dinner- 
time, and was not to be found in all the house, so Kal- 
lem thought he would ask about it ; she told him then 
what a miserable performance it had been ; he had got 
tired after barely half an hour; a young man who 
could not stand more than that disgusted her. “Oh, 
you everlasting aesthetic!” — he went to look for the 
youth, and sacrificed his delightful Sunday afternoon to 
it, and came home with him toward evening. Then she 
whispered to him, when they were in the office, that she 
was going to be very good. Kristen Larssen came, and 
more patient than any beaten poodle, she sat herself 
down to give him an English lesson. 

From the very first she had felt compassion for this 
peculiar man ; but she froze to an icicle in his society, 
and in the vicinity of his breath. Therefore, she her- 
self thought that it was horribly cowardly of her to 
go on with it without a complaint ; it was certainly 


MANHOOD. 


not out of compassion. Punctual to the minute he ap- 
peared, in his long brown coat with the tight sleeves, 
and with a working-man’s unbearable smell of stale per- 
spiration from clothes and body. His breath reached 
right across the table ; she felt it too, even if it did 
not really reach her. He pulled forward his chair, sat 
down, and opened his book, and when he had found his 
place, he sent his cold, horrible eyes across to her warm, 
startled, dove-like ones, startled beyond bounds. His 
long, black-smudged fingers, covered with black hair 
like his whole hand, took hold, the one hand of the 
book, the fingers of the other he used to point with ; 
then he cleared his throat well, and finally began. Usu- 
ally he asked about something from the last lesson ; al- 
ways intelligent, suspecting a mistake on her part, a 
want of perception or logic. He made her feel unsafe 
under the safest circumstances. 

When he slowly, and with much deliberation, strug- 
gled on, word for word, and she presumed to interrupt 
him because he had made a mistake, he put down his 
finger still firmer to mark the place where lie had been 
caught tripping, and looked up at her, vexed and sus- 
picious. Then she in a most uncertain way reiterated 
her correction ; but never could she succeed in making 
it clear enough to him ; lie had always to ask for fur- 
ther explanations. She repeated it a third time, and at 
last he was gracious enough to let it pass — to her ac- 
count. Each time she interrupted him, she knew what 
would follow — and knew that wave upon wave of that 
bad breath w^ould be wafted across to her. 

What a piece of work it was for this man to come to 
her as sure as he always was ; never repeating a mis- 
take that once had been corrected ; and what capacity 
he had, enabling him to ask all those extraordinary 
questions, which sometimes would have done honour to 
a philologist — all this she neither overlooked nor un- 
dervalued. But to her he was so truly fearful. He 
was too painfully like an old monkey she had seen 
sedately eating with a silver spoon. This picture hang- 
ing grinning over him was like revenge. 

There was one circumstance in her daily life which 
made it very pleasant, it was her work together with the 
servant ; they became very good friends. Both of them 


1 7 2 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


got on so well together — Ragni found out what there 
was to do, and the other one did it. Ragni liked work 
and was quick about it, the servant was intelligent and 
anxious to learn ; they took a pleasure in each other’s 
society. 

A fortnight after the unsuccessful attempt at duet- 
playing, she said to Karl Meek : 

“ What do you think about it ? Shall we try once 
more ? ” 

“ No, thank you, it — it won’t do ! ” answered he, horri- 
fied. 

“ Oil, yes, I have looked out a duet which you will be 
able to manage.” She took it out, he stood at a dis- 
tance of two ells and looked at it — grew very red, and 
passed his hands through his hair. 

“Do you know it?” He never answered ; it was a 
piece of his own, he called it the “ Mountain Brook,” and 
he had often played it for Kallem upstairs ; now it had 
been arranged as a duet ; in this way she wished to 
make up for the last time. 

“Come, now!” In the same red silk dress, with the 
same lace falling over her long playing-fingers, there 
she sat, the same figure, the same wonderfully dreamy 
eyes looking at him, sometimes in a way that made him 
shiver. But now he was himself in new clothes, and 
his hair was cut and well arranged, as was his whole 
person. And the “mountain brook” came rushing 
from under her nimble fingers ; if he were not always 
able to keep up with her, she waited to take him along. 
At last, if not quite perfect, it was at all events not so 
bad but what she graciously promised in the future to 
go on with it. 

He bowed, and would have gone. “It is Sunday,” 
said she, “ you can’t have anything to do ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Shall we go for a walk ? ” 

“Yes, if you. . . Oh, yes!” 

Quick as an arrow he came down in overcoat and fur 
cap, and she appeared in her pretty cloak and the coquet- 
tish American hat with feathers. 

“Let us go up the hill and meet the doctor.” 

They went off. She felt she would have to talk the 
whole time, so she began to describe the snow-storms on 


MANHOOD. 


J 73 


the American prairies, and what the consequences could 
be for both man and beast. He saw how little by little 
the colour came to her cheeks, and how her small feet 
could hurry along the road. There was no sun that 
October day, but it was not cold ; the fields were dark 
and dull, and the foliage was just beginning to turn ; but 
he saw nothing of all that, he was overcome by the 
thought that she had wished to walk with him, she, the 
most refined, the most musical woman he knew. For 
her sake he would so gladly roll in the dust, shoot him- 
self with a pistol, or jump into the lake. This was no 
imaginary woman, it was -Ragni Kallem in the red 
silk dress under the soft cloak, and the American hat 
with feathers — the one that all his companions admired 
so much. Those eyes gazed at him ; and he dared not 
go down to their very depths. She walked and talked 
with him before everybody. Then he too began to talk, 
as they went from winter in America to winter in the 
forest districts. His father, Pastor Meek’s son Otto, 
was a doctor and had married a farmer’s daughter from 
a large farm in the forest district, and lived there like 
any other peasant. Together with him Karl had been 
across the river-bed, away up in the solitude of the wooded 
mountains ; he had helped at the felling of timber, the 
netting of deer, and shooting; he talked of scenery and 
impressions of which she had not the slightest idea. 
He described the appearance of a black-cock, its court- 
ship, habits, the flapping of its wings, and its cry so viv- 
idly, that she ever after called him the “ black-cock.” 

They did not meet Kallem, and went back therefore 
by the same road. They played their duet over again, 
and much better than at first ; they washed to practise 
it well so as to play it some evening w r hen Kallem was 
sitting in his office ! To him Kallem w r as the greatest 
and highest he knew. 

Little by little she gained influence over the “ black- 
cock,” and got accustomed to his oval face, his variable 
moods, one moment radiant and beaming, the next 
dowm in the depths, hasty and impetuous, then humbly 
submissive, with short spells of industry and long ones 
of “dolce far niente,” very much got up, but at the same 
time very slovenly ; she began to think him quite good- 
looking, and had no objection to take him by the hand. 


i 7 4 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


She helped him with his lessons ; especially with his 
English. His learning was very scrappy, so Kallem 
proposed that he should leave school and study pri- 
vately those things that he was so far behind in, and lie 
wrote to Karl’s father about it at once. After this Karl 
often sat in the large room with his books and exercises, 
played and read, and read and played— alone and to- 
gether with her. 

In the afternoons they were seen out taking long 
walks together. As soon as the snow lay firm on the 
ground — it had come the beginningof November — they 
. would go and meet Kallenvand drive home with him, 
each standing on one of the runners of his sledge. As 
soon as ever the bay was frozen they were out on the 
ice, the quickest and most agile of all. One sport alone 
had Kallem and he reserved for themselves, and that 
was to get Karl to walk on his hands. With the great- 
est solemnity the doctor would lift up his long legs and 
hold them up, while the other tried till he could try no 
longer. At first this went on only in the gymnasium, 
but soon they began in the room, in the passage, even 
on the stairs, just before dinner, just before supper 
too : “ Up with your .legs, lad ! ” How Ragni laughed 
every time he tumbled down again. At last she too 
became anxious that he should succeed ; but he never 
could manage it ; he was “ too limp.” Then it became 
a matter of honour for him ; and the same for her too. 
She took a great interest in trying to make a “ man ” of 
him ; his limp appearance, his tendency to dream and 
idle away his time, annoyed her greatly ; she told him 
so. But he could not stand much, and soon became 
cross. Then she punished him by being very reserved. 
It waS of no use his being altogether crushed and that 
he made hundreds of advances, even that he cried ; 
she allowed him to live in mortal terror of her complain- 
ing to Kallem ; she helped him witli his work, but with- 
out either a word or a look but what belonged to the 
subject; she refused to go out with him ; she never saw 
him — until in Kallem’s presence she could again talk as 
though nothing had happened. Kallem, of course, knew 
nothing of all these shadows cast over their mutual in- 
tercourse. 

Kallem associated with no one, he had not time. He 


MANHOOD. 


175 


was obliged to diminish his practice, so that he took 
serious steps to come to an agreement with Dr. Arentz, 
the young military surgeon, that he should be his as- 
sistant. This was arranged by the end of November, 
and from that time he could take more part and interest 
in the lessons and mutual occupations which rendered 
them all the more firmly established. 

Karl Meek’s father travelled into town on purpose to 
thank them, and to invite them to accompany his son 
up to the forest district for Christmas. Otto Meek was 
taller and stouter than his old father; the face was in 
more grand style, more truly “Bourbon;” but it was 
melancholy, or rather gloomy. Kallem accepted the 
invitation, and at once made arrangements with his col- 
leagues to enable him to get away. But as the time 
drew near Dr. Kent fell ill, and Ragni was obliged, 
however unwillingly, to start alone with Karl ; Kallem 
would follow them. A fur cloak for driving was 
bought for her, fur boots, a foot-muff ; a valuable fur 
cap, too, a present from Karl. She looked like a Green- 
lander when she had it on. 

Kallem went to the station with them ; Ragni had 
been crying a little — in honour of its being the first 
parting since they were married. As she sat in the 
train and Kallem stood outside, she was going to begin 
again ; he had to get in and scold her. As soon as her 
tears were checked, he got down again and looked up 
at Karl, who sat there happy and healthy. “ I say, dear 
old ‘ black-cock,’ from this time I shall always say 
‘ thou ’ to you and call you Karl, for you are a good 
fellow !” But Karl jumped right down and threw him- 
self on his neck. 

So they departed. 

Kallem read a great deal and thought it not altoge- 
ther unpleasant to be at peace ; latterly they had occu- 
pied his time very much. But already the third day, 
which was Christmas Eve, it felt lonely ; he thought he 
would go and take them by surprise ; Dr. Kent was 
better. 

On the evening of Christmas Day he was just coming 
away from Kent and going up to the hospital, when he 
saw in the distance a small crowd at the gate. A horse 
and sledge were just driving away ; the sledge was full 


176 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


of straw and bed-clothes ; some sick person must have 
been driven in. He heard also children crying. Who 
had been hurt ? It was Andersen, the mason — the same 
man who had greeted Kallem and his wife from up on 
the new house, the first day they came to the town. 
In the winter, mason Andersen went about and did 
pedlar business whilst his own trade was at a stand-still, 
and in crossing over a forest ridge he had lost his way, 
fallen and hurt himself, and had to lie there until, by 
the merest chance, he had been found. Kallem found his 
inconsolable wife with the deaconesses, and heard from 
her that her husband, who was an active man, had made 
extra haste as it was just before Christmas, and had 
wanted to take a short cut so as to reach home for 
Christmas ; Andersen was always so “ fond of his home.” 
But his sight was bad, and he slipped on his Lapp-shoes 
and cut and broke his leg, and there he lay not able to 
move. That was how he kept Christmas. “ We waited 
and waited,” she said, “and the children too ! ” 

Kallem went up to the patient, who was in bed in a 
warm room. The big man with the large brown beard 
floating over his shirt was altogether unrecognizable. 
The eyes Were pressed together, the eyelids swollen, 
stiff. The mucous membrane of the eye was inflamed, 
the cornea was threatened, and as it was painful at the 
slightest ray of light, there was probably greater danger 
at hand. Swollen bluish-red patches on the face ; the 
fingers of both hands quite white and without feeling; 
the backs of the hands twice their usual size and cov- 
ered with large blisters full of water. The right leg was 
broken at the upper end of the fibula, the fracture went 
up into the knee-joint ; the wound was as large as a 
crown-piece, a splinter of bone sticking out like a fin- 
ger. Compared with this, all other injury to the foot 
was of little consequence. 

Andersen could hardly speak, but now and again 
groaned that his foot must not be cut off. Kallem an- 
swered repeatedly as he helped him, that the next morn- 
ing’s daylight would decide it. The room was at once 
half-darkened, compresses of boron water were laid on 
his eyes, with urgent instructions to change constantly ; 
his face was rubbed in with oil and wrapped in a thin 
sheet of wadding, the same with the hands ; the wound 


MANHOOD. 


77 


in the leg was syringed with carbolic water, and a small 
bleeding vein was bound up, the wound sprinkled with 
iodoform and wrapped round with wadding, and put in 
a wire bandage. If he should awake and feel weak, he 
was to have ether every second hour, and if in very great 
pain, then an injection of morphia. 

After that he fell asleep ; but each time he awoke he 
complained of unbearable pain — less from the fracture, 
but more particularly down the shin-bone to the back 
of the foot ; he was in constant fear that his foot would 
be amputated. 

At nine o’clock the next morning, Kallem thought him 
better in all respects. His mind was clearer, too, now, 
but was still much taken up about his foot — if only it 
might be spared. He wished to see his good friend the 
minister ; the wife was there, and she went off at once to 
beg the minister to come to him a little before church 
began. Meanwhile his eyes were attended to ; they 
were less swollen, but could not bear the light ; atropin 
was used to them and the compresses changed for a 
light bandage. Kallem was on the lookout when An- 
dersen’s wife came back with the minister ; he went to 
meet them. According to his opinion, Andersen’s right 
leg would undoubtedly have to be exarticulated, that is, 
the leg taken off at the knee-joint ; but the patient was 
not to know that at present. The wife, who until now 
had taken the accident with strength of mind and calm- 
ness, broke down entirely, so Kallem dared not let her 
go into the room ; the minister went in alone. 

It made a deep impression on the latter to stand be- 
side his sick friend in this darkened room, and by de- 
grees distinguish the giant lying there without eyes, 
with an unrecognizable face, his hands in bags, and to 
hear him moaning. But soon he was bound to admire 
his strength and his confident faith. Andersen wished 
them to pray for him in church to-day; “they all know 
me,” said he. The minister agreed to it, but on the spot 
he offered up a heartfelt prayer for him and for all who 
were dependent on him. The sick man was much 
cheered by this prayer; he whispered : “I have made 
a covenant with God about my foot,” then lay quite 
quiet whilst the minister pronounced St. Paul’s blessing 
over him. Within an hour from then Dr. Arentz came, 


12 


1 7 S 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


and Andersen was carried into the operating-room. 
They told him that they intended to chloroform him so 
as thoroughly to examine his injuries ; and as he was 
still suffering such intolerable pain, he agreed to it at 
once ; “ but mv foot is not to be cut off.” 

A closer examination proved that the upper extremity 
of the fibula was splintered up crossways into the knee- 
joint ; unfortunately, too, one of the larger veins lay 
pressed between the fractured extremities, so that its 
pouch was filled by a large thrombus, which stretched 
up a few inches of the thigh. 

Asa matter of course, the leg had to be amputated ; it 
was done in a quarter of an hour. 

All those who were to help in nursing him were 
strictly enjoined to let him believe that his leg had been 
spared. All excitement was to be avoided, so that there 
might be no possibility of his raising himself in bed and 
changing his position ; if a thrombus were started, it 
would be all over with him. He was laid in a wire ban- 
dage from the hip-joint and down to the foot of the bed, 
the stump was wrapped in a bandage of carbolic gauze 
and jute, and fastened at the outer side to a block. 

When he was in bed again they roused him, but 
impressed upon him to keep perfectly quiet. They 
gave him wine, but in tablespoonfuls, so that he need 
not move ; in the same way he had some bouillon (beef- 
tea (and the yolk of an egg ; soon he fell asleep again. 

As soon as Kallem had changed his coat, he went 
down to the deaconesses’ room where the wife was wait- 
ing, and told her the whole case, together with the danger 
threatening if Andersen were in any way agitated. He 
grew quite fond of her broad, intelligent face with the 
eagle’s nose ; seldom had lie come across a purer strength 
of character. “Should this end badly,” said he, “you 
have still many friends.” 

“ God lives,” whispered she. 

Between three and four o’clock Andersen woke up, 
took more spoonfuls of wine, beef-tea, eggs, milk ; he 
assured them that he felt well enough, except that his 
shin-bone pained him ; occasionally too he felt a pain in 
his heel. Toward evening his vital powers were much 
stronger, and he wished to see the minister again. Just 
as his wife was going to fetch him, he came of his own 


MANHOOD. 


*79 

accord. Kallem had impressed on him that he was to 
pretend that the leg was still on. 

It was evident at once that Andersen just lay there 
and thought of nothing else. “ I think now I can say 
that God lias heard my prayer.” said he ; “ therefore must 
He be thanked in a fitting manner.” 

The minister was touched by this, and felt called up- 
on to give hearty thanks that the leg had proved to be 
a pledge of God’s mercy to the sick man, and had al- 
lied him still more closely with his Saviour. Andersen 
seemed to be considering the matter ; at last he said*: 
“ Pray now that He will spare the leg afterwards too.” 

What could make him think of that ? 

“Oh, because I have so much pain in it.” 

But shortly before he thought his prayers had been 
heard ? 

“ Yes ; but it is a good thing to pray without ceasing.” 

The minister tried to refuse ; but the patient at once 
became restless, and his wife whispered meekly that 
Andersen must be allowed his way in this. So the 
minister yielded. But he did it more on her responsi- 
bility than on his own, and it passed over. Kallem had 
just gone home when the minister came to him there, 
very pale, and told him what had taken place. “I will 
not do that over again,” said he. 

“ I can assure you, you have done a good deed.” The 
minister stood with his overcoat and hat on, his hand 
on the door-handle ; Kallem’s tone and words offended 
him. “ Through truth alone can we draw near the God 
of truth. Good-bye ! ” 

The doctor followed him out : “ You believe, then, that 
if you now tell Andersen his leg has been cut off, that 
God can save him ?” 

“ Yes,” answered the minister, angrily, without turning 
round. 

It was impossible for Kallem to leave now. He wrote 
a lengthily detailed letter to Ragni and promised to 
come as soon as he could. 

The next morning he found everything in the most 
desirable order ; but enforced the greatest quiet in his 
position in bed, and that he was not to talk so much. In 
the afternoon Andersen wished to take the sacrament, 
but the deaconess answered that he could not stand so 


i8o 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


much agitation. “ I wish to renew my covenant with 
God,” replied Andersen. 

They could not do otherwise but listen to this; but 
they dared not consent without first asking the doctor, 
and he had been sent for in the morning to attend a 
confinement. The deaconess consulted with the porter, 
who had been there so long that he was all-powerful. 
Andersen repeated his wish to him too in the most 
decided way, and the porter thought it could not be 
avoided ; he would take the responsibility on himself. 
Shortly after the minister and he were together in the 
porter’s room to take the chill off the wine ; the weather 
had changed and it was a bitterly cold evening. They 
both went upstairs. Andersen was glad to hear who it 
was who came ; “ I knew it,” said he. 

The minister asked if there were anything special ? 

“ Yes, there was.” 

The others left the room. Then Andersen said that 
once, when he was young, he had given a boy a rupture 
with the same foot that now was injured. It was surely 
not on that account that he was now punished ? 

“No.” 

“ No, but for all that he had been thinking so much 
about it, and had a longing to take the sacrament.” 

There was nothing else the matter ? 

“No.” 

The minister begged him to collect his thoughts, now 
they would pray together. Andersen was silent while 
this went on. After the prayer the minister gave him 
absolution from sins, and said that now he would give 
him the bread and wine. 

“ Oh, wait a little ! Now I have received absolution 
from my sins, now there is a clean page. Let us write 
down the leg on that, that it may be read in heaven. I 
feel so happy, yes, I am so truly happy ! ” 

“The whole body is included in the covenant, dear 
Andersen.” 

“Yes, but this time the Lord is to promise my wife 
and children that my leg will get quite well. Come 
now ! ” 

He stretched out his frost-bitten hands. 

The perspiration broke, cut on the minister’s face. 
“ I cannot do this,” whispered he, quite unconsciously. 


MANHOOD . 


181 


Andersen’s mouth quivered, his bandaged hands fum- 
bled for something ; he raised them to his eyes, but 
they were met by the bandage. “We cannot question 
the justice of God,” said the minister ; “ supposing now 
that what we wish for is impossible ? ” 

Was there something in the minister’s voice, or was 
it the actual opposition that made Andersen suspi- 
cious ? 

Without answering, he tore the bandage from his 
eyes, and he raised himself up, did it quickly, flung the 
bedclothes aside and fell back on his pillow, put his 
hand on his chest, crying out that he was suffocating, 
his breathing was alarming. A clot of blood (throm- 
bus) had gone up into the lung. 

The minister had put down what he was holding in 
his hands, and hastened to the door where the porter 
and the others were waiting outside ; they ran for Doctor 
Arentz and Doctor Kent, but before either of them ar- 
rived Kallem had come back. The minister had left 
by then ; Andersen died that same night. 


VI. 

The porter was the first who had to pay for it. He 
was dismissed that same day. 

Then Kallem went down to Andersen’s widow. 
“You are a very clever, capable woman. If you like 
you shall have the place as porter and steward at the 
hospital. Accept it and begin at once to-morrow to 
pack up and move in with the children, you will have 
less time to think about your sorrow. Have you a good 
servant-girl ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Take her with you. More will not be necessary. 
'Everything else is ready, and the deaconesses will help 
you.” 

The upper deaconess got a sound rating ; but nothing 
further. She was to atone for her mistake by doing all 
that lay in her power to help mother Andersen. 

He made no effort to see the minister, nor the minis- 
ter to see him. He heard from others that he had 


1 82 


IN COD'S WAY. 


been ill, which he thought likely enough. A few days 
later Kallem met Josephine in the street ; she pre- 
tended not to see him. 

The effect produced by this incident is not easily de- 
scribed. The whole town was in a tumult. There 
must be something peculiar about belief altogether, 
when belief in a lie could save a man from certain 
death. 

Of course the porter and his large family came down 
upon the minister and his wife like a heavy beam. Jo- 
sephine had to provide money for starting them in a 
bookseller’s shop, much more money than she wished 
to part with. 

From that time Kallem had a true and faithful enemy 
in that man. 

Directly after all this Kallem travelled up to the wood 
district. He gave no notice of his coming ; he came 
driving up from the station to the farm one moonlight 
evening just as the yard and a good part of the road 
were filled with sledges ; some had people in them, 
some were empty ; old and young, all were going on a 
sleighing expedition ; they were to start from here and 
come back to the farm to dance. 

No one noticed him coming from the station ; they 
thought he belonged to the party. It was only when 
he stood in the passage where the people of the house 
and their guests were dressing that several of them saw 
he was a stranger ; but they did not think much about 
that ; many fur-clad figures were tramping out and in. 
Ragni had just got her fur on when she felt herself em- 
braced from behind. She gave a scream and looked up. 
What delight that was ! And Karl, who stood aside in 
a corner struggling to pull on his long boots— without 
a sound or word he pulled them off again, his fur too, 
flung his legs up in the air and away he went on his 
hands to greet Kallem ; at last he had acquired the 
art! The father stood by with his thick hair and his 
melancholy face ; he introduced Kallem to his wife, a 
pale, quiet creature ; she spoke in the dialect of that 
district and had a weak voice — about all that Kallem re- 
marked in her. He had now no time for anything but 
just to join them. 

There was much neighing of horses, and shouting, 


MANHOOD. 


i8 3 

and little screams, and laughter until “ Ready ! ” was 
sung out down all the line and the first sledge with a 
iady in it and a fur-man standing behind dashed off ; 
then- sledge upon sledge, broad ones and narrow ones, 
sledges with one horse and sledges with two horses. 
All along the snowy field in the moonlight there was a 
long waving line with blackish-gray dots on it wending 
toward the wood, while soon re-echoed through the 
trees the sound of bells, dogs, laughing and talking. 
Some began to sing, others joined in ; but it was im- 
possible to keep time, so they gave it up. Kallem sat 
in a broad sledge with his wife. She looked so sweet 
wrapped in all her furs that he several times tried to 
kiss her — a very difficult task. What a lot she had ex- 
perienced ! As he listened to her it became clear to 
him that it was only now she was enjoying her youth. 
He had never seen anyone so happy, had never known 
that she had such a longing for enjoyment in her. 
The same thing struck him later in the evening, as they 
danced, played games, chattered, played, ate ; she was 
enjoying herself now for many past years. Whether it 
was a ponderous wood-owner who took her round her 
slim waist and carried her off so that she barely touched 
the floor with the tips of her toes, or whether she caught 
hold of one of the children and waltzed away with it, or 
of Karl, or some ether youth from school or university 
whirled her round the reverse wav like a top — there was 
always the same delighted face, the same zealous eager- 
ness. The dancing and games went on in a corner room 
reaching right across the house ; but many kept stream- 
ing out from there and into the other rooms, yes, even 
into the kitchen over in the other corner; the door into 
it was open. A few elderly gentleman tried to have a 
game of cards in a corner, but had to give it up ; they 
were perpetually being called away to dance, they too. 
Old and young, all were equally happy. 

At eleven o’clock the next day Ragni was still asleep, 
and when she came downstairs about noon, rather tired 
and confused and much astonished that Kallem had got 
up without her hearing him, she was informed that he 
had gone away! A telegram from Dr. Kent, who was ill 
again, made it impossible for him to remain longer. A 
few hasty lines, scribbled while he ate his breakfast, 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


IM 


comforted her a little. He wrote that he would not wake 
her as she had been up so late the night before, still less 
would he have her with him ; but never had he felt a 
greater pleasure than in seeing her so happy. 

The first thing Kallem found when he got home was 
an invitation to a ball from the “ club.” And he de- 
cided to accept it. The invitation was in his sister’s 
hand-writing (she was one of the patronesses) and it was 
to “ Dr. and Mrs. Kallem.” Dear me ! 

Should he telegraph for Ragni ? He decided to let 
her stay where she was ; she could not be better off. 

Meanwhile he had to do with a very serious matter. 
His first visit the same evening was to a poor woman 
down in the town, Sissel Aune, a washerwoman and 
mother of a large family; she was in bed with inflam- 
mation of the lungs. It was particularly on her account 
that Kent had telegraphed. The seventh day had passed 
without any crisis, and when this night was half through, 
the ninth day would be over too. Would she survive 
it? Both upper and lower tips of the lung were affected. 
The heart was weak, the pulse very feeble, and there 
were other bad symptoms. Should he try to brace up 
the heart with atropin for the last struggle ? He had 
nevfer tried that remedy in a similar case, but it seemed 
reasonable enough. Wherever he went and whatever 
he did, this question haunted him. The five children 
were over with Soren Pedersen and his wife Aase ; 
those two were capital in such emergencies. 

The second time he went there he stayed ; it was a 
wrestling match with death. 

It was a small but clean room with three beds. A 
miserable geranium in the window and a portrait of 
King Charles XV. on horseback, in frame and glass, 
hanging on the Avail, a few photographs fastened up 
with pins, and beside them a violin with three strings, 
the fourth hanging down loose. The poor creature 
who lay there had once been a good-looking woman, 
shotrld she recover she would still be hard working and 
active. But now she was wasted away to skin and bone, 
her worn-out hard-working hands resting on the ragged 
sheet. But the man who sat beside her was not strong 
like she was ; no, he was indeed a poor weak thing ! A 
good-natured face, so far in keeping wit li the violin on 


MAXHOOD. 


185 


the wall that perhaps a string had cracked in himself 
before the one now hanging there had given way. 
Tired and worn out by night-watching, he sat there 
quite by himself, not because the neighbours were chary 
with their help, but because the one who had last sat 
there was resting now until the last struggle should be- 
gin. It had touched Kallem to see that the neighbours 
kept watch on each side of the house, wishing to pre- 
vent Christmas merry-makers from passing that way ; 
they relieved guard the whole night through. He heard 
this from the woman who came again about eleven o’clock 
to help. There was not much to be done except for the 
doctor, and he did not know whether he dare do any- 
thing. 

Alter the first injection of one-third of a milligramme 
the pulse was raised. Kallem felt some hope, but dare 
not send it on to the imploring eyes of the husband ; it 
might deceive him. The pulse kept steady for a couple 
of hours, then it fell ; a fresh dose and it rose again, 
lie sat there watching her in great anxiety. He had a 
book with him and tried to hold it under the lamp, now 
and again he took in a little of it, but it was speedily 
forgotten. Not a word was spoken, but there were 
groans and sighs. The last shouts outside in the dis- 
tance, the last sound of bells died away, the last door 
had long since been shut, the night was gray and still. 
Five children, the eldest not more than ten years old, 
were about to lose their provider, and the man who sat 
there, sometimes tapping his knees, then stroking them, 
or resting his elbows on them and clasping his hands 
together, and staring first at her, then at the doctor, 
alas, he too would lose his provider. 

Each time the pulse grew weaker a fresh dose was 
administered, and it invariably strengthened the pulse 
so that it certainly seemed as though he were doing the 
right thing. But the crisis would not end ; it was past 
midnight, and according to what they said the ninth day 
was over, and still the same wearing struggle was go- 
ing on. He got up from his seat in hope and fear, and 
sat down again, took his book, held it up, laid it down 
— and went to take her temperature. Her strength 
was fast ebbing away ; the husband saw it in his face 
and he struggled to keep back his tears ; the doctor 


I A 7 GOD'S IV AY. 


186 

warned him to be quiet. One more trial, and soon af- 
ter she fell asieep. But was that really sleep ? He lis- 
tened. The others looked at him and he at them. He 
left the bedside for a little while to return to it with fresh 
powers of judging ; it was genuine, quiet sleep ! He 
turned round to the husband, who read it in his face and 
a reflection of the light of life flitted over from the doc- 
tor’s to his face. He got up, again his feelings over- 
came him — it must break out now. “Go to bed!” 
whispered the doctor. The man flung himself down on 
one of the beds with his face buried in the pillow — then 
he gave way completely. 

Whispered injunctions to the woman who sat by the 
stove and who now got up. Kallem promised to be 
there again later on in the morning ; she helped him on 
with his overcoat, he quietly opened the door for him- 
self and shut it again as quietly. The dull, gray weather 
had turned to a heavy fall of snow. Not a single light 
was to be seen in any window, with the exception of that 
one watching over the newly-kindled spark of life. As 
Kallem went past the saddler’s shop he could not re- 
sist knocking at the door ; but they were sound asleep 
in there. He knocked again, for he felt sure that they 
had given up both their bed and the warm room to the 
children, and were lying down themselves in the shop. 
He was quite right. “ Who’s there ?” was asked, with 
Soren Pedersen’s Funen accent. “When the children 
awake, tell them that their mother will get better.” 

“ That is delightful,” returned the man from Funen, 
and behind him could be heard Aase’s north country 
voice : “ What is that he is saying ? ” 

Kallem replied : “ Come to dinner with me and bring 
the children with you ! ” 


VII. 

The whole of that night and the next day there was a 
tremendous fall of snow, and toward evening the wind 
rose to a perfect storm ; it drifted and piled up the 
newly fallen snow in great heaps. The storm passed 
away ; but the snow fell on with equal violence. Peo- 


MANHOOD. 


187 


pie from the country who were going to the ball got the 
snow-plough to drive right down to the town ; in the 
town itself they were driving it about for the second 
time that day. To the ball ! to the ball ! The first 
large ball at Christmas-tide. 

To the ball ! to the ball ! In those larger towns, where 
dancing is a business kept up by the young people in 
turn at different houses and assemblies, no one there 
can have any idea of the upset caused in a small town 
by the prospect of the first Christmas ball, and especi- 
ally amongst those young people from the country who 
drive in„ ready-dressed for the ball underneath their 
furs. But just as the snow-plough good-naturedly 
pushes the superfluous snow to both sides, so does this 
old-established custom and their natural shyness do 
away with more than the half of all they had been ro- 
mancing about together. A nice, well-behaved flock 
appears, who at first seem hardly to know each other. 

Kallem was lying on the sofa, and was in capital spir- 
its. That excellent woman, Sissel Aune, was recover- 
ing, the husband was going about to-day drunk with 
happiness, and with brandy, which the neighbours forced 
on him. The children had been there to dinner, al- 
though the servant did not approve of it ; in that respect 
she was like Ragni, those two were like each other in 
many ways. 

The children were not quite so shy as Andersen’s 
children, who were also of the party. Kallem had 
played the piano for them, indifferently enough, but he 
had walked on his hands to perfection, and the saddler 
had had much to say about the mason Andersen’s death. 
It was truth had killed Andersen ; so many there are 
who live by lying that it is necessary some should be 
killed by truth, and more of such like rubbish, which 
Aase thought wonderful. 

A long and very cheery letter from Ragni lay spread 
out on Kallem’s stomach ; he had been reading it through 
for the second time. Karl had enclosed a report of her 
state after the doctor’s departure, and that was amusing 
too, especially a description of her first attempt at using 
snow-skates (which also proved to be the last). Through 
it all one could see her innate cowardice. 

Now he was going to a ball where a minister’s wife 


1 88 


JN GOD'S IV AY , ; 


was to be patroness ! She and her smart friend, Lilli 
Bing. Was Josephine doing this against her husband’s 
wishes ? It was a public secret that such was the case ; 
Lilli Bing had betrayed it to him. The minister’s wife 
was the first ball-room lady in the town ! The gentle- 
men fought for the chance of merely whirling her once 
round in a cotillon tour. He could see her in fancy, tall, 
bare-necked, dark-eyed, warm and glowingfrom dancing. 
Yes, he would have a dance with her too. He felt a 
longing to see her, he could not conceal the fact. He 
put Ragni’s letter on one side, Karl’s too, and the book 
lie had been reading, then he got up, turned down the 
lamp, told the servant he meant to go out, then went 
up to dress. 

It was quite extraordinary the quantity of snow that 
fell ; not the star-like flakes, but broad big ones, chas- 
ing one after the other. If there had been the slightest 
wind it would have been impossible to find one’s way. 
The lamps were dim, the light hardly reached beyond 
the glass, and there was not a sound all round. Rain 
has a sound, and has too a scenery of its own, but snow 
envelops and hides away everything, never does one feel 
so utterly alone as in the midst of a fall of snow. Kal- 
lem had not even a garden fence to guide him, he did 
not stumble over a single stone by the way, none of the 
trees in the garden either bowed or inclined their heads 
for him ; he could no longer even see them, they were 
wrapped up and sent away. The church still stood 
there, but it was transformed into a heap of stones with 
a white staff up it. He and the church, and the church 
and he, there was none besides. 

The houses down the street seemed to retreat in the 
background ; they looked like so many great wizards 
sitting there with huge paws in front ; once those paws 
had been stairs. A couple of boats lay up-turned down 
on the sand at the end of the beach street ; they looked 
like white elephants at rest. The sea was like a sea of 
snow ; but strange to say the island had floated loose 
and drifted away, it was no longer visible. It was full 
moon, according to the almanac, and it certainly was 
not dark, although the moon was snowed away from the 
bewitched world. 

He trudged along like a sugar-loaf turned upside 


MANHOOD. 


189 


down. The falling snow and he were the only moving 
things. It was barely ten o’clock, but still there were 
no eyes of fire glaring from out the house. Everything 
was shut up, extinguished, and snowed over. Nothing 
but the dimly burning lights in the lanterns bore wit- 
ness that once there had been a living town there. 

There, now he heard a clarinet squeak and a double- 
bass scrape — just as if somewhere p, fox and a polar 
bear were hopping about together. There was tripping 
and there was tramping, the snowflakes were falling 
and the houses were deserted. 

He advanced so far till he saw a smoking fiery mist 
round about a large house ; it was from there the 
squeaking and scraping came. And thither he di- 
rected his steps. 

Had he made a mistake ? He fell, or nearly so, down 
into a restaurant, down into an atmosphere of tobacco, 
punch, and food. He saw some stout men sitting there 
like so many pigs buried in their fat. They were not in 
ball-room dress, but here came some who were. And 
when at last he found his way to the right stairs, several 
gentlemen in evening dress passed him on their way in 
search of tobacco and punch. Kallem hated and de- 
spised both tobacco and punch and all tavern life, and 
especially those men who could not dance without re- 
quiring stimulants. 

No one ought to come late to a ball. He looked at 
the clock, it w T as past eleven and not only just ten as he 
had thought ; either he had got home too late or he had 
stayed reading too long. A few young men, heated 
and perspiring who just came out through the smoke — 
each time the door was opened there was a good deal 
of smoky fog — wished him good-evening, thereby set- 
tling the fact of his arrival, so he pursued his way me- 
chanically and took off his outdoor garments. In the 
passages were more heated and perspiring people. The 
one seemed to be running away just because the other 
ran, their conversation was meaningless, their eyes wild, 
their laughter like a tum-rum-tu aiming. There came 
ladies, too, three and four together, looking very much 
like full-blown roses ; they laughed about nothing, 
talked about nothing, quite ready to be carried off 
through music and chattering. The instruments were 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


190 

worn out, the lights were in a hazy mist, the chan- 
deliers a gold red color. 

The ball was overcrowded ; it was difficult to make 
one’s way through all the men who stood disengaged 
near the door ; they were all together in a clump, a mix- 
ture of coarse and fine — a truly Norwegian mixture. 

A waltz was being danced, part of the cotillon. Tall 
as Kallem was, he could soon see, now that his glasses 
were dry again, that his sister was not among the dancers, 
probably not in the room at all. But he forgot her, 
for in some respects this was an entirely new sight for 
him ; he knew nothing of Norwegian life but the west 
country and Christiania. A ball in a little Norwegian 
provincial town is a peculiar tiling. Ladies and gentle- 
men who would adorn any grand Parisian ball, move 
easily and lightly about among young people who take 
things heavily in daily life, never having learnt the art 
of dancing, but pound away in time with unabashed 
honesty. Men in tail-coats, men in frock-coats, women 
in low-necked ball-dresses, women in plain black stuff 
dresses, some elderly, some quite young, everyone en- 
joying themselves in his or her own particular way. 

From the moment that Kallem had been so unfortu- 
nate as to find his way down into the restaurant or its 
vicinity, thereby plunging into the smell of punch and of 
tobacco-smoke, which he detested, from that moment he 
was out of temper and looked at things from the dark 
side. However, this passed away when he found himself 
in the ball-room and surrounded by so much joyful in- 
dependence on all sides. A couple waltzed past him, he 
in frock-coat, she in a dark woollen dress fastened with 
a clasp ; they had a firm hold of each other and never 
stopped but went on twirling carefully and solemnly 
round. A tall, fair young fellow in a short jacket brushed 
past them, probably a young sailor home for Christ- 
mas ; he was dancing with a woman over forty, doubt- 
less his own mother ; she was still quite capable of hold- 
ing her own through a regular topsail breeze. There 
went a well-known railway man, a thin individual in a 
tail-coat, with upturned face and hopping about with 
body swaying from side to side ; if he hopped on his 
right foot, the whole body went to the right, if on the 
left, then he bent to the left, always keeping time in the 


MANHOOD. 


191 


most conscientious way, and so happy — as happy as one 
of his own whistling engines ; his partner laughed all 
the time but not in a shy way ; on the contrary she was 
enjoying herself. And they kept on dancing, starting 
afresh almost the moment after they sat down. Then 
a business man swept by, directly after him an officer, 
both irreproachably got up, and with young, fresh 
partners in proper ball-dresses ; then followed a mad- 
looking individual with long floating hair, dancing with 
a tall, dark woman. They dashed through the middle 
of the long ball-room, up and down, everyone was 
afraid of them and got out of their way as if they had 
been horses. Then came twirling round a tower-like 
man, a broad, round, high tower with a little thin lady 
leaning against him as though she were a ladder. The 
upper part of the tower did not move, only twirled 
round ; if anyone had put a plate of soup upon the top, 
not a drop would have spilled. Then there were two who 
held out their arms like sails, two tall people, taking up 
as much room as three ordinary couples. But it seemed 
to be the established ball-room custom that everyone 
had a right to just as much room as they could manage 
to take up, and just as much speed as they wished, and 
in the way and style they preferred. Here everyone 
danced on their own account, and not for dancing’s sake 
only, but to enjoy themselves. 

But look at these two coming, they can dance ! They 
came out from a side-room, a good-looking beardless 
cavalry lieutenant and *a tall. .. .Josephine ! She was 
in red silk trimmed with black, her firm neck, her 
rounded arms with their warm colouring, her luxuriant 
hair fastened in the usual knot, her wild-looking eyes, 
for they were wild, and that figure — truly, she was queen 
of the ball ! How she danced ! It was now the strength 
and natural suppleness of her body showed itself. And 
now* the Irish blood in her came out strongly. Her 
brother pressed forward, almost breathless. And it 
seemed to him, that all stood staring at these two, who 
swung round now to the right, then to the left, then 
twirled round on the same spot, then dashing right round 
the room. No fresh couples joined them, all were look- 
ing on, and little by little many stopped who were danc- 
ing ; they wished to look on too. There was this draw- 


I 9 2 


7/T GOD'S WAY. 


back about the cavalry officer, that he was no taller than 
his partner, but he was a strong, manly-looking fellow 
who danced splendidly. For these two thoroughly 
healthy people dancing was a passion and intoxication ; 
or it had that appearance. And it intoxicated others. 
Kallem could not resist it. He felt that he must dance, 
and with her too, and if possible immediately. The next 
time they went swinging past him he looked at her — 
looked at her in such a way that he knew she would 
be forced to look over in his direction. And she did so. 
She stood still, just as though someone had taken her 
round the waist and stopped her. “Many thanks !” said 
she to her partner. Instantaneously her brother stood 
beside her ; but at the same time came her friend Lilli 
Bing. “Come and sit down beside me ! ” said she, and 
then, turning at once to Kallem, “ How delightful to 
see you here ! ” 

“ I must thank you for the invitation,” answered he, 
addressing them both. “ But I have such a wish to 
dance with you, Josephine.” He drew on his gloves. 
“ Will you allow me ? ” and he bowed to the lieutenant 
who politely returned his bow. “Would you like it ?” 
he said to Josephine. 

She was rather breathless after the rapid dancing ; 
but her dark eyes beamed. “Yes,” answered she, softly. 

The floor was again crowded with dancers, so they 
stood a little and waited. But as there seemed no chance 
of better room he put his arm round her waist so as to 
start. 

“It will never do ! ” whispered she. 

“ Oh, yes it will ! ” said he, and started off, passing by 
everyone without either knocking them or letting himself 
be stopped ; if there was danger he carried her rather 
than guided her past it. But soon he perceived that it 
wasquite unnecessary ; she bent and glided to the slight- 
est pressure of his arm. They were not so alike that they 
quite suited, nor yet so unlike that they clashed; they 
became interesting for one another and enjoyed a mo- 
ment’s reconciliation before the fight. They looked at 
one another from time to time, always simultaneously, 
he very red, she very pale. 

Now the lamps shone brightly, the music was lively, 
the people happy and unaffected, and the ball-room 


MANHOOD . 


193 


splendid. They had not danced together since the 
days when lie was the first cavalier of the balls, and she 
a disagreeable school-girl whom he graciously conde- 
scended to dance a few turns with now and again. But 
the way they held themselves and kept time, their pace, 
too, it was all like one, their dancing was light and 
graceful, they were so happy. But all they were think- 
ing about could not now be discussed while they thus 
held each other entwined ; it had all somehow got mixed 
up. They belonged to one another with all the strong 
connecting power of their natures, especially now that 
the depth of that nature had been reached. All that 
seemed to separate them fell away like some foreign or 
chance element. And as all the life they had spent 
together had been in the days of their childhood, and 
in another country, they felt thems'elves carried back 
there by the recollection of it. In the burning heat 
over there, by sea and shore, they rode on their little 
ponies, one on each side of that strange father, he had 
always looked so well on horseback. 

The brother — taller than his sister — looked down on her 
broad-shaped head, he seemed to see his father’s head 
again. She thought about her father, too, when she 
looked up into his sharp-featured face. All the same, he 
was more like their mother than she was ; she recog- 
nized again in him all that had been so clever and good 
in their mother, although it was largely mixed with 
the stormy elements that had been their father’s. She 
could have lain in his arms as though he were her 
mother, sure of him to the very end, in fact, just like that 
last evening they were together in their own town on 
the bay. And in all the world she had no greater long- 
ing than this. 

Then the waltz came to an end. 

Arm in arm they walked to the place Lilli had in- 
vited them to ; they felt warm and grateful. They met 
Lilli with the cavalry lieutenant, she quite done up on 
account of her being so stout, but he, as always, stiff, 
correct, and respectful. 

Not long after this Kallem found himself in his over- 
coat, sealskin boots, his hands deep down in the huge 
pockets, and away out in the falling snow. 

Either the brother and sister must now be left to 


1 3 


194 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


themselves, or else he must leave. It had moved him 
greatly. He was very fond of her, and she, perhaps, 
even more fond of him. At this moment, when her 
spirit seemed to amalgamate with his, everything was 
left to shape itself as it best could and would. Some- 
thing evidently weighed her down in daily life ; it could 
hardly be religion ; but what was it then ? She always 
did exactly as she pleased, without reference to anyone ; 
and yet she seemed to be more heavily burdened than 
most people. 

It went on snowing and snowing ; still there was light 
from the moon, although it was not visible. His sister 
seemed to be standing in the air in front of him, bare- 
armed and bare-headed, and with eyes of fire ; in the 
distance he heard .the music. 

But when he found himself back in his own white 
bedroom, which the attentive servant had kept warm, 
then the dancing seemed all to be going on up in the 
forest district. There was Ragni borne along by the 
heavy wood-owner, so that she barely touched the floor 
with the tips of her toes ; she whirled round with the 
small children, or hopped away with the “ black-cock,” 
or some dashing young fellow from the metropolis ; he 
could see her delight after each dance, and could hear 
her : “Oh, how I am enjoying myself, Edward !” and so 
he fell asleep. 

And the day after, just after he had dined alone and 
had gone into the big room from force of habit, for it 
was there that Ragni used to play for him, the door was 
opened and in came Ragni. He could hardly believe his 
own eyes ! There she was, buried in all her furs ! and he 
undid everything and dragged her out, plump, milk- 
white, and bewitching. He carried her off. 

“ Oh, well,” said she, when they had calmed down 
after a little, “it was just always the same thing over 
again up there and I longed for you.” 

“ Your nose is crooked ! ” 

“ And you, who have been to a ball ! ” 

“Your nose is crooked ! ” 

“ It is hardly seen. But do you know that Karl is not 
at all nice? I must tell you.” 

“ Karl ? ” 

“ Oh, not to me ! To me he is always delightful ; you 


MANHOOD. 


195 


can’t imagine how nice. But totally different to his 
brothers and sisters ; hasty, fearfully hasty, and capri- 
cious, a self-opinionated gentleman.” 

“ I can imagine that of him.” 

“Do you know that was why I came away. We will 
be alone now, may we not ? We have always had him 
hanging over us.” 

“ Well, I never! Are you now tired of him, too ?” 

“I never said that. But to have him always about 
us, it is — really — tiresome.” 

“Well, perhaps it is rather tiresome, that’s true 
enough.” 

“Yes, but now listen to me, I am going to ask one 
thing more ; but you must be good, and not call me an 
aesthetic ! ” 

“ Well, what is it ? ” 

“ Don’t let Kristen Larssen know that I have come 
back. Please not ! Let us really have a little peace.” 

“But I have just got some children who ” 

“ No, no ! No children either ! oh, no ! ” and she be- 
gan to cry. 

“ But my dear, darling Ragni ” 

“Yes, yes, I know it is so selfish of me ; but I cannot 
do it ; it is not at all in my line.” 

Shortly after the piano was heard sending forth in 
chords of richest harmony a hymn of jov for her home- 
coming. Spirits of beauty took possession of the house. 
They flew up to the roof, to the windows and doors; up to 
the bedroom, out in the kitchen ; into the office, singing, 
singing, singing all the while, so the tubercular bacilli 
that the doctor was studying danced straight away to 
meet the song that was to deal them their death-blow ; 
they sang right up to the kitchen door, so the whole, 
scullery seemed to dance, the coffee-kettle boiled over 
and the new dress which Sigrid had got as a Christmas 
present from her mistress, ready-made, with velvet trim- 
mings, and an upper skirt looped up with cord and tas- 
sels, fell to thinking of balls and dancing, up there un- 
der the roof, the highest thing in all the house. 


196 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


vm. 

The next day Kallem was coming away from Sissel 
Aune, the washerwoman. He had been annoyed with 
her husband, who, in the abundance of his joy, had got 
his violin strung again, played at all the merry-makings 
and feasts, and made himself quite drunk. He wished 
to try with him what he had tried with Soren Pedersen, 
and he went round there in order, with their help, to 
get hold of the lyrical Aune. But he found “wife 
Aase” alone in the shop, occupied in helping one of 
Sissel’s children up into a saddle ; four of them were in 
the shop, the fifth was lying in the next room. Soren 
Pedersen was not at home ; he was with Kristen Larssen, 
who was ill. Kristen Larssen ? Yes, he had had dread- 
ful vomitings, at last nothing but blood came up ; but 
he would not see or speak to the doctor. Kallem deter- 
mined to go there at once* but first of all he would have 
given a little help toward the keep of the children here, 
but it was refused. That very day Aase had sold two 
sets of harness and a bed with a spring mattress ; they 
now had in the workshop a niece of Aase’s, a woman 
who was also called Aase ; to distinguish them from one 
another, Soren called the latter “Aase’s Aase.” 

Kallem found Kristen Larssen in bed ; he had some 
work in his hairy hands, and Soren Pedersen was read- 
ing aloud to him. In the corner between the window 
and the table, pressed closely to the wall, sat his wife, 
knitting; her kerchief was pulled so far forward that 
the face was darkened. There was a very bad smell 
in the room. Kallem was much alarmed when he saw 
the sick man, he seemed thinner and more ashen gray 
than usual. 

“ Have you been eating many rich things this Christ- 
mas ? ” 

“ Well, we had some brawn.” 

“ Have you been ill in this way before ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, now and then.” 

“ Never as bad as this time,” said she who was knit- 
ting. 

“ Do you feel any pain now ? ” 

“ Not just now. But it comes and goes.” 


MANHOOD . 


T 97 


“ Is it in the chest and stomach ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ And does the pain come often ? ” 

“ Oh, yes.” 

“ Oftener and oftener every day,” was heard coming 
from the corner. 

Kallem examined him and found a swelling the size 
of a walnut in the pit of the stomach ; Kristen Larssen 
knew of its existence too. 

“ Has this grown larger ? ” 

“ Oh, yes.” 

“ It has grown very quickly,” remarked she in the 
corner. 

Kallem felt himself grow hotter and hotter. Why 
had he let himself be put off by the other’s refusal of 
his help ? The wife’s eyes followed him about, her 
knitting-pins moved more slowly, she seemed to grow 
quite stiff ; the doctor tried to keep a quiet counte- 
nance, but she was not to be taken in. Kristen Larssen’s 
cold eyes also followed him about inquiringly. Kallem 
told them to open the register on the hearth and leave 
it open the whole time, day and night; their fire-wood 
would suffer, but that could not be helped. 

Soren Pedersen got up and opened it with great eager- 
ness. Both Kristen Larssen and his wife looked disap- 
provingly at him ; the fire-wood did not belong to him. 

To gain time and calmness Kallem took up the books 
that lay there ; they were some of his own English ones, 
and there was also a work on mechanics ; then he be- 
gan staring at the little toy the sick man had in his 
hands. 

“ What is that ? ” 

Soren Pedersen explained that it was an improvement 
on the knitting-machine that Kristen Larssen had in- 
vented. As he went on with the explanation little by 
little, Larssen’s fingers touched the wheels and the pins 
with so dexterous and soft a touch that it was easy to 
see the power of his mind and his love for his work. 

All over the room, on the tool-chest, on the floor, 
up on the table, were piled up things for mending, from 
watches and guns to sewing-machines, coffee-mills, 
locks, and broken tools. Kallem’s revolver had been 
taken out of its case, and he heard now that it was the 


198 


IiV GOD'S WAY. 


only thing that Larssen had repaired since Christmas. All 
this talk of Soren’s was a respite for Kallem ; he knew 
now how he would manage. He spoke about diet and 
about medicine to relieve the pain, and asked Soren 
Pedersen to go with him to fetch the latter. 

Hardly were they out in the street before Kallem 
said that there was no hope for Kristen Larssen ; this 
was undoubtedly cancer in the stomach, and very far 
advanced too. 

The self-sufficient cunning in Soren Pedersen’s round 
shining face disappeared by all sorts of back ways, his 
face was a blank whose doors and windows all were 
open. 

“ I shall soon be able to give a decided opinion and 
then you, who know him better than I do, will have to 
tell him.” Kallem quite forgot to speak about Aune. 

Within a very few days the whole of the little town 
knew that Kristen Larssen, the jack-of-all-trades, was 
dying of cancer in the stomach ; it was even in the pa- 
pers. There they called him “an inventor and mecha- 
nician, well-known in our districts.” Not a house did 
Kallem go to, nor did he stop to speak to anyone in the 
street, but they all asked after Kristen Larssen. When 
he went to see the sick man for the first time after 
Pedersen had told him what was the matter, there 
was not a word said about it. Larssen lay there with 
his invention in his hand, rather weak after a very severe 
bout of pain. His beard had been allowed to grow ; he 
looked awful. His wife was knitting, but rather nearer 
to the bed. The English books had been put away, 
but that was the only outward sign that all thoughts 
of the future had been given up. 

From there Kallem went round by Soren Pedersen’s, 
who told Kallem that the former porter at the hospital 
had been at Larssen’s to try and convert him ; he would 
not like him to go straight to hell. Larssen had only 
answered that he did not wish to be detained ; he was 
occupied with something winch was very near its com- 
pletion. Then came the minister. He began in a nicer 
and more careful way ; but perhaps just on that account 
did Larssen lose all patience ; he gave vent to all his 
collected bitterness in words that stung, and the wom- 
an with the knitting-pins and the projecting kerchief 


MANHOOD. 


199 


placed herself near the door. The minister under- 
stood and went away meekly ; he had never been the 
same man since that affair with mason Andersen. But 
among his congregation this caused a good deal of 
scandal. 

After a meeting of the young men’s association their 
choir assembled together outside Kristen Larssen’s house 
and began to sing a psalm, very softly. Others joined 
them, but all quite quietly. It happened that it was 
just during one of the sick man’s fits of pain ; he said it 
was like the constant pricking of thousands of pins — 
and whilst he was in such pain the singing only irritated 
him. So Kallem had to interfere and forbid all such 
doings. Two lay-preachers, the former porter and one 
other went to the doctor at the hospital to explain to 
him that it had all been done in the best intention, and 
that it would not do to keep God’s word from a dying 
man. Kallem lost his temper and answered rudely. 

When he was down at Kristen Larssen’s at the usual 
time in the evening he was certain he saw faces out- 
side at the window. The sick man was just asking the 
doctor how long he had to live and if the pain would go 
on increasing, so Kallem took no further notice of 
what was outside except just asking to have something 
hung before the window. He was deliberating whether 
he should tell Kristen Larssen the whole truth, and lie 
came to the conclusion that he might do so. He told 
him that it might last two or three months longer, and 
that the pain would become more frequent, although 
not every day equally often or equally violent. Larssen’s 
wife stood by listening. 

No one was standing by the window when Kallem 
came out, but a little farther up the street a lady was 
walking about slowly, as if she were waiting for some- 
body. When she saw him, she came straight up to him ; 
it was his sister. 

“ Was it you looking in at the window down at Kris- 
ten Larssen’s ? ” 

“ I ! ” said she, and he saw her face turn red under 
her hood ; “it is not my habit to peep in at other 
people’s windows.” 

“ Excuse me ; but I really saw somebody do it.” 

“ Well, yes, I did do it.” 


200 


IN GOD'S 1VAY. 


“ Do you know them ? ” 

“ Yes. But I have come to speak to you, Edward. I 
knew you generally came about this time.” 

“ What do you want with me ? ” 

It was only now he noticed how agitated she was. 

“ Is it true you have said you will take the responsi- 
bility on yourself of Larssen’s going to hell ?” 

“ I don’t believe in hell one atom.” 

“ No, but did you say that ? ” 

“I don’t know. No, I don’t think I did.” 

“Well, you see, others have a different opinion to 
you. And they feel indignant when they hear such 
words. You will lose all you have gained here by 
your work if you talk like that, I can tell you that.” 
ICallem felt this to be so thoroughly like her old 
self. 

“Yes, I daresay it is wrong to say such things. But 
by heaven, it is wrong to torment a man like Kristen 
Larssen, too. As long as he has his powers of reason- 
ing, no one will get him to believe in hell ; so they may 
as well leave him alone.” 

“That is not what they want with him either.” 

“ Indeed, what is it then ?” 

“You know just as well as I do, Edward, and it is for 
your own sake I beg you not to scoff at earnest and lov- 
ing people.” 

“ I have no wish to scoff ; I only say that they can 
spare themselves the trouble, and spare him too.” 

“He is too cold.” 

“ Cold or warm, such things depend on one’s disposi- 
tion and manner of living.” 

“ But people can live themselves into a state of cold- 
ness of the soul, and that is what he has done.” 

“May-be ; but I know somebody who is warm enough, 
and who thinks exactly in the same way as Kristen Lars- 
sen. So it is not that.” 

“ Well, what is it, then ? ” 

“Thousands of things. She whom I allude to always 
puts her thoughts into pictures, and from the time she 
saw a very old drawing of the Trinity, a large body 
with three heads, and heard that the head in the middle 
was son to the two at the sides, the father and mother 
(for you know that the Holy Ghost began by being a 


MANHOOD. 


201 


woman), from that time she never could believe in the 
Trinity ; she laughed at it. And as I said before, she is 
warm enough.” 

“Fie!” hissed out Josephine, in all the strength of 
her indignation ; “ she may be warm, but she cannot 
be pure ! ” Kallem felt a stab at his heart ; she was aim- 
ing at Ragni ! His sister was cruel, and looked cruel 
like in her school-girl days, and he too became again 
the boy of those days ; bang ! he gave her a box on the 
ear. It hit the hood, but it was heartily meant. 

With flaming eyes she flew at him like in the days 
when they used to fight. She whispered: “I think 

you ! ” she trembled with rage and scorn, then she 

turned full of contempt and left him. 

Had anyone seen them ? They were alone in the 
street. He felt an indescribable fear ; this might per- 
haps be visited on Ragni. 

Kallem thought that the words “ not pure,” coming 
from Josephine’s mouth, were a hit at what had hap- 
pened in former years ; that was why he was so indig- 
nant. But what would he not have felt if he had known 
that she was rather aiming at their present life ? When 
the minister and his wife came home and kept away 
from them, the reason was partly that Kristen Larssen, the 
scoffer and blasphemer, was received in Kallem’s house, 
that Ragni gave him English lessons, and that Kallem 
had long conversations with him. For the majority of 
the congregation Kristen Larssen appeared to be a reg- 
ular devil, and when any new arrivals, both men and 
women, sought his company (like the Soren Pedersens), 
it was a great offence. Soon after Karl Meek came to 
live with them, and from that time Ragni was never 
seen anywhere except in his society. To crown all, they 
travelled up together to the wood district ; this was too 
much when it a was a question of a divorced wife, who 
was both a free-thinker and might be accused of break- 
ing her marriage bonds. 

Josephine had come with the well-meant intention of 
warning her brother. If she had been allowed to talk 
to him quietly, she would have told him all this ; she 
was not afraid, and she was sincerely fond of him. But 
now she went back branded by his scorn. 

Then all her pent-up passion burst forth ! First and 


202 


IN GOD’S 1VAY.' 


foremost, in bitterest hatred of her who separated brother 
from sister ; but by degrees it turned to hatred of every- 
thing that caused it. The death of Andersen, the mason 
— the more her husband was upset by it, the more notice- 
able was the contrast between them — and at a particu- 
larly unfortunate time. All that Tuft complained of in 
himself was like making so many concessions to her, 
and now he intended to put an end to it. It could not 
have happened at a worse time. 

In the house next to theirs lived a dried up old 
woman, the minister's' mother ; she was always protest- 
ing against the other house. She never put her foot in- 
side it at any party, and seldom otherwise except for 
family prayers, and when she dined there on church 
festival days. Her daughter-in-law’s manner, her danc- 
ing, her dressing, and her friends were an abomination 
to her, and the minister’s perpetual love-making She 
thought ungodly. The little boy became her spy. Jo- 
sephine was sitting one summer day on the other side 
of the open door, and heard her questioning him as to 
who had been there the day before, what they had had for 
dinner, and if they had drunk much wine, and how many 
different kinds. “Grandmother asks me if mother is 
going out to-day, too,” said he one day. “ And she asks 
me what father says to mother when she comes home, and 
if father slept upstairs with us.” 

Josephine took it very quietly. But the knowledge 
that her mother-in-law was at the bottom of all the min- 
ister’s religious admonitions, did not make her more in- 
clined to give in. She intended to live as she thought 
lit ; he might do the same. 

For him, it was the struggle of his youth, from the 
time that he for her sake had given up the idea of be- 
ing a missionary, and there was always the same result ; 
he was so much in love that he was not master of him- 
self. But not because she enticed him— just the con- 
trary ! When she sometimes became tired of him as of 
everything else — for there were sudden changes in her 
moods — it was then that she appeared to lum most 
lovely and most to be desired, like the women of the 
old legends. He could make no resistance then. 

But the great task that God had imposed on him by 
the sick-bed of his friend, that showed him what he had 


MANHOOD. 


203 

neglected in his life ; now he would feel the fruits of re- 
mission. 

Whilst he had, after much self-examination, made up 
his mind that he could speak to his wife, she had been 
keeping all her struggles secret. After the last battle, 
she had at once decided what was the fairest thing to 
do — revenge was what she always called justice — but 
soon, too, it became clear to her that her brother had 
seen through her own dubious conduct. From the mo- 
ment she had danced with him, she felt that no one 
thought so much of her as he ; but* since their last meet- 
ing, she had discovered that he despised her religious 
transactions. Indeed, he had every right to do so. She 
had never really counted the cost ; she had always been 
content if her husband’s faith and works were appre- 
ciated, if only she might be left in peace. Things could 
not continue like this ; her brother’s contempt was un- 
bearable to her. 

There were morning and evening prayers in the min- 
ister’s house ; grandmamma always came in, after her the 
maid-servants, and then the minister. Josephine did not 
always appear at morning prayers, and if they had any 
guests, evening prayers were given up. The minister 
always either began or ended with a prayer suitable to 
the occasion. At this period these prayers were lengthy 
and earnest, so Josephine stayed away altogether. 

These solemn unctuous debates were her detestation, 
in public even more so than in private. The latter gen- 
erally took place near bed-time, when their little boy was 
asleep and family worship was over ; if she knew it was 
coming, she went to bed ; he then seldom followed her; 
it was slippery ground to tread on up there. But this 
evening he did come. She had heard him moving in the 
study, and she now heard him on the staircase. She 
did not lock her door, and she left the big lamp burn- 
ing. But when he took hold of the handle, she ex- 
claimed : “You must not come in.” 

“ Why not ? ” 

“Not as long as I am undressing.” 

“ I will wait.” 

He went down again, and she began to undress slowly. 

Their bed-room lay over the study and looked out to 
the garden ; to the right, through a curtain, was her 


204 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


dressing-room, just over the spare-room ; to the left a 
door that led to another dressing room. Beside this 
was a staircase leading from the passage by the study. 
She could hear him coming up for the second time ; she 
was now in bed. The door was in the middle of the 
room, just opposite the windows ; their beds stood to the 
right of the door, hers nearest to it. The little boy 
slept at the other side, near the dressing-room. 

He did not inquire again whether he might come in, 
but just opened the door. She lay in her white night- 
dress, her black hair done up in the usual knot ; her 
head was propped by her left hand as if she were about 
to raise herself; 

He sat down on the edge of her bed ; she at once 
moved slightly backwards, as if she did not like to come 
in contact with him. He looked very black. “Joseph- 
ine, you avoid me ; it is not right of you ; I require 
comfort and advice. The old trouble is upon me, Jo- 
sephine, the day of reckoning cannot be postponed.” 
He looked at her sorrowfully ; she looked back si- 
lently at him. “ You know what is the matter with me. 
I live here at your side in affluence and comfort, and 
amongst my congregation in earnest worship. But a 
Christian does not grow in grace in this way. The 
other day I was weighed in the balance and found want- 
ing.” He hid his face in his hands and sat silently for 
some time, as though he were praying. “ Dearest Jo- 
sephine ! ” — he raised his head — “ help me ! I must 
make an entire change in everything around me ; I 
must live and work in a different way.” 

“ How so ? ” 

“ I am not a true minister, and you are not truly a 
minister’s wife ; the following of our own wills leads us 
astray ! ” 

“ All these attempts of yours, Ole, to lead a different 
life commence with me and my house. Pray begin with 
yourself! I am as I wish to be ; you can act as you 
think rightly yourself. As to our home, we only live 
as people of our means and tastes should do ; if this 
does not suit you, well, you have your own private 
apartment to be in ; you can arrange things as you like 
there. Should you prefer living separately, pray do 
so ! ” 


MANHOOD. 


205 


“Yes,” he answered, “ I mean there must be a change 
in everything, even down to the household and the very 
bill of fare.” 

“ I have not the slightest regard for these everlasting 
complaints of yours.” 

“ That is because you do not understand the spiritual 
meaning.” 

She became quite pale. “I only know one tiling,” 
she answered him, harshly, “ that is, I refused to be as 
sensual as you were, and that was the beginning of it 
all.” 

“ You never will let me hear the last of that. But I 
am not ashamed to confess that the first crisis arose 
from the cravings of nature and your resistance ; that 
opened my eyes. I am not ashamed to confess this. 
For when I proposed a total reformation ” 

“ And pray, did I forbid this ? ” she said, interrupting 
him. “Yes, I forbade you to begin trying your refor- 
mations on me ; try them on yourself, Ole !” 

He got up. “ You don’t understand me, nor do you 
understand God’s will with regard to us. I still hold 
that there is a want of spirituality about you, Josephine ; 
you have never given yourself up entirely to repentance 
and prayer, you never consecrated your life to all ab- 
sorbing worship ; your heart is not set on things above, 
only on the things of this world. You wish to be a 
Christian, but you do nothing to attain thereto. Why 
do you not answer? Won’t you try? Now, together 
with me? Josephine? Oh, how I do suffer, also on 
your account !” He seated himself humbly beside her 
again. 

“ Do you mean that I am to accompany you to the 
Zulus?” she asked, coldly. 

“ I mean that we should perfect ourselves together in 
all good works, dear Josephine, and that then God will 
direct our steps.” 

“I can’t listen to idle talk,” she answered ; “say right 
out what you wish us to do ! ” 

“We are to live amongst and for the poor, through 
faith in Jesus.” 

“ Listen to me, Ole ; I know how to do that better than 
you do. You have never watched at night by the sick- 
bed of some poor person ; I have often. And it is I 


206 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


who started the * mutual association.’ ” (This was the 
name of an association consisting of some of the well- 
to-do women of the town, where every member bound 
themselves to provide work and help for their own spe- 
cial poor ; Josephine was their leader, she distributed 
the work.) 

“Yes,” her husband assented, “you have administra- 
tive talent — like your brother. But living in luxury 
one’s self, and now and then condescending to visit the 
poor, it is not that ; no, one should live amongst and 
entirely for them.” 

“Shall we sell the house? Shall we move down to 
the poor part of the town ? Tell me what your wishes 
are ! ” 

“If God chooses us to do so, yes! But it must be 
done by and through faith, for Jesus’ sake, Josephine, 
otherwise it is of no avail.” 

She answered not a word. 

“What do you say to this, Josephine? Do you not 
■wish us to try and lead a true Christian life ? ” his eyes 
were beseeching, his hand sought hers ; “ Josephine ! ” 

She withdrew her hand. “ No, you know, I cannot 
see why I should make my own life unpleasant ; it 
would benefit no one, and only injure me.” 

“ Do not say that ! If only we could try ! To believe 
in Jesus, and to live together only for the good of 
others.” 

“What nonsense! I can’t help it, if it hurts your 
feelings ; it is rubbish to say that one requires to be- 
lieve in Jesus so as to help the poor. I don’t care, I 
will say what I think.” 

“If you believed in Jesus, you would understand the 
reason why.” 

“ I never said I did not believe in Jesus.” 

“ Ah, Josephine, this kind of faith is worthless ! You 
can’t even fathom what real faith is? I am answerable 
for this shortcoming of yours ; I who live year out and 
year in with you, and have got no further ! ” He bent 
down toward her ; there were tears in his eves. “ How 
happy we might be together if you would but humble 
yourself before God — you who have such strength — 
and whom I love so dearly.” He tried to put his arm 
gently round her. 


MANHOOD. 


207 


“Faugh !” she exclaimed, and sat up. 

He jumped up as though he were stung. She sat 
with flaming eyes — soon laid down again, both arms un- 
der her head ; her bosom heaved, she was much agi- 
tated. “I do not know whether God will permit us to 
continue living together under these circumstances,” he 
said. 

“ No, do just as you choose.” 

He turned from her, for he thought it beneath him 
to answer. The little boy groaned in his sleep and 
tossed uneasily. Tuft looked at him ; the little fellow 
lay with his arm under him and half-open mouth ; Tuft 
knew the forehead well, it was his father’s over again, 
and was like his own too, the hair, the shape of the lit- 
tle hands and fingers, even to the very nails. But the 
day might come when even the boy would no longer be 
his own, if this continued. 

“No, Josephine, things shall not continue in this 
way. God help us both ; the struggle shall not end 
thus.” 

Behind the excessive goodness of his heart, all the 
breadth and strength of his nature became evident ; she 
felt this. It moved her deeply. She heard him wan- 
dering up and down in his study, restless, but with a 
set purpose. She could not sleep. 

The day after Kristen Larssen had become aware of 
the nature of his disease, he committed suicide. It 
shocked people dreadfully ; he haunted the place ; 
hardly anyone dare pass the house. A rumor got 
abroad that Kallem had lent Larssen his revolver for 
this purpose ; but it was put an end to by his wife, by 
Soren Pedersen, and by Kallem’s own testimony. 

Kristen Larssen had retired from this world without 
warning and without thanks. He had said to his wife 
that sudden death would be best. But neither had they 
come to any mutual agreement or reckoning, nor had 
they taken leave of each other. He had begged her to 
go and fetch Soren Pedersen, and whilst she was away, 
had crept out of bed and, with his usual cold-blooded- 
ness, had done the deed. 

The regular funeral rites were refused to him ; a cor- 
ner by the north wall was selected, and three men 


208 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


worked hard to get a grave dug. The funeral day was 
unusually cold ; some there were who fancied they saw 
the finger of God in that too. At quite an unusual 
hour, namely in the afternoon, Kristen Larssen was 
lowered into his grave without the toll of a bell, with- 
out priest or psalm. The most remarkable among the 
few people who were present was Aune, for he was 
drunk and fussing about everywhere — so thinly clad 
that it made one shiver to look at the poor wretch, blue 
with cold. Soren Pedersen told him several times to 
keep quiet; but to no avail. The only visible part 
of Soren’s shining face was his nose, eyes, and a bit of 
the cheeks ; all the rest was covered by a huge woollen 
comforter, wound round and round, and by a fur cap 
drawn well down to the eyes ; his great big hands were 
in a pair of huge woollen gloves, of the kind that fish- 
ermen use for rowing ; and his feet were in fur boots. 
Soren Pedersen had grown rather stout, his greatcoat 
was somewhat too tight ; he looked like a lobster with 
all these excrescences ; Aase, in a little cloak and hood, 
kept by the side of the widow* who stood there tall and 
thin, in Laplander shoes and loose ample dress, as wide 
at the top as at the bottom ; she wore a heavy woollen 
shawl over her head ; she evidently wished to conceal 
her face. Aune slouched round to tell her that he had 
been “to the station with her luggage.” And now “he 
had shut up the house ; he had the key in his pocket 
he took it out and showed it. The poor widow was to 
go direct from here to the station, and stay with some of 
her relations who lived at a few miles distance ; and 
later, go on to her native town. Besides these four 
there were two of the sextons present ; one of them stood 
with short coat and mittens, leaning on his spade, inces- 
santly chewing tobacco ; the other was almost covered 
by a brown beard, crook-backed, and dim-eyed. 

There was a tightly packed snow-drift under the wall ; 
Karl Meek and Ragni came along together and got up 
on to the snow-drift. They were all waiting for Kal- 
lem, who had been detained, but now came along at full 
speed. He took off his cap to the widow, and was 
greeted by the others as he went up to the grave. He 
wished to sav a few words, but waited to see if nothing 
else would happen. As nothing did happen, he said : 


MANHOOD. 


209 


“ I am not acquainted with the past life of the man 
we are about to bury ; neither did I know him well 
personally. He had different religious convictions to 
those of the people he lived amongst, and lie has been 
punished for them. His and his wife’s object in life 
was to be able to go to free America.” (At the word 
America there was a general movement amongst the 
handkerchiefs.) “ He tried to teach himself English ; 
for him it would have been like getting wings. 

“ But having said this much, and when I add that 
he was the cleverest man I have met with here, I have 
said about all I know of him. 

“ Therefore I cannot join in judging him. I often 
had the impression, whilst we sat together, that he was 
always cold. The cold around him had chilled him to 
the bone. 

“It so happens that only we five or six people are 
here to take a last farewell of him. Yet all those who 
benefited by his ingenious work, most particularly 
those whose life has been eased by his clever inventions, 
thereby affording them greater enjoyment — all those 
owe him thanks, which I am here to express.” 

A deep stillness ensued ; one could hear the snow 
creak when anyone moved; but no one attempted to 
leave. At last Aune reeled forwards to the edge of the 
grave. “Well, at least I will thank you for the violin ! 
Oh — and the forgiveness of sins, oh, oh, fare thee 
well!” — within an ace he had fallen into the grave. 
In great disgust Soren Pedersen seized him by the arm, 
turned to his wife, and said : “ Dearest Aase, you say 
the Lord’s Prayer so beautifully ; let us have it ! ” And 
she stepped forward, pulled off her mittens, and folded 
her hands. The men took off their caps and bowed 
their heads ; and then Aase repeated the Lord’s Prayer. 

The first heavy lumps of earth were then thrown on 
to the coffin ; it sounded as though it were being 
crushed. 

Kristen Larssen’s wife came up to Kallem. He could 
now observe her close by, suffused in tears, worn out 
by want of sleep ; she had lost nearly all her strength, 
and her last hope ; but she took his hand with a firm 
grasp, gazing at him with sorrow-stricken eyes, she 
nodded with suppressed feeling, she could not speak. 

14 


210 


IN GOD'S JVAi: 


No one could have received warmer thanks. Ragni 
was much startled when she likewise took her hand, 
for she knew she did not deserve it. The widow hur- 
ried past the others and went down toward the town, 
Sdren Pedersen and Aase had much difficulty in keep- 
ing up with her. But Ragni clung to Kallem’s arm, 
she would have liked to have hung round his neck, and 
wept bitterly. 


IX. 

Kristen Larssen’s house remained without a tenant, 
no one cared to either buy or rent it ; the gloom that 
had fallen over it spread even to his friends. It was 
lucky for Soren Pedersen that his customers were prin- 
cipally from the country, and not from the town, other- 
wise it would have fared badly with him. Ragni did 
not know that she was more watched and talked about 
now than ever ; she was not at all careful. The very fact 
that the minister’s family refused all intercourse with 
them, made her a target for evil tongues ; her charac- 
ter could not bear any more. 

She was quite defenceless against the things they ac- 
cused her of, as she did not know what they were. If 
she and Karl Meek held each other’s hands on the ice ; 
or if he made her laugh whilst putting her skates on ; 
or if she tried to push him off when they stood each on 
one of the runners behind the doctor’s sledge ; or if 
they ran together with the hand-sledge, or played duets 
for some visitors — someone had always noticed a look 
that could not be mistaken, heard words that had some 
hidden meaning, or seen liberties taken that only those 
could take, who were accustomed to take still greater 
ones. It was so with the last lodger, now again with 
this one ; what else could Kallem have expected ? It 
was only his just punishment. 

Soren Kule’s relations were the ring-leaders; they 
were numerous in this part of the country, and had 
fertile imaginations — particularly about immoral things. 

It was choice to hear Lilli Bing describe how Rag- 
ni Kule that was, went in “every evening’’ to the stu- 


MANHOOD. 


21 1 


dent Kallem’s room ; it was in the same passage. “ Dear 
me, what harm could there be in that, as they loved 
each other? Who could have gone on living with that 
disgusting Soren ?” 

She insinuated that the present wife of Kallem did not 
even require to cross the passage. One of her remarks 
was, “ What harm can there be in it, as she never gets 
children ? ” 

How was it that none of those whom it concerned 
never heard anything ? That none of the usual anony- 
mous letters ever reached them ? The first can only be 
explained by the fact that they scarcely ever associ- 
ated with anyone, and the second, that people probably 
thought that Kallem would not take the least notice of 
them ; free-thinkers generally have rather loose ideas 
about morality. Toward the beginning of spring, Kallem 
was seen accompanying his wife and Karl Meek to the 
steamer ; they were to cross to the other coast ; he 
was seen to fetch them again on the pier, Monday fore- 
noon. They knew that he was out all day, and that the 
other two were together in house and garden all day 
long. 

Karl’s examination went off satisfactorily, but of 
course with much anxiety ; the day was near at hand 
when he was to leave them. On the whole, it had been 
pleasant to Ragni to have him there, but his unstability 
gave her much trouble, and his passionate nature grew 
with his bodily strength. His great devotion to her 
kept this in subjection ; but the way it often showed 
itself was a great trial to her ; she loved stability and 
peace. She prophesied that the day would come when 
things would not go well with him ; he carried too much 
canvas. 

She longed to be able to be alone again ; she said so 
to Kallem, who teased her by saying that in three weeks 
she would have to do without Karl. He was first to be 
at home for the summer holidays, but from there travel 
down to Germany to study music. Although he had 
accustomed himself to live and think under Ragni’s 
eye, in strife with her, in subjection to her, in constant 
adoration ; still he liked the idea of being independent. 
The separation would not be difficult. 

But it so happened that, on one of the last days, he 


212 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


was at a friend’s house — the only one he now and then 
saw since he came to the Kallems — and in speaking of 
his departure his friend said : 

“ How do you stand with regard to Kallem’s wife ?” 

Karl did not grasp his meaning, and began singing 
her praises ecstatically. The other interrupted : 

“Yes, I know all about that; but to make a clean 
breast of it, are you her lover ? People say so.” 

Karl asked how he dared to say such a thing? He 
should be answerable for his words ! But it was his 
friend’s intention seriously to warn Karl ; he had only 
just heard the report himself, it had not got about much 
yet. He bore Karl’s raging patiently, and told him that he 
could scarcely expect otherwise than that people would 
think there was something in it, as they had been so 
very imprudent. 

They could not at all understand at the Kallems what 
was the matter with Karl, all of a sudden. He had 
hardly been in to them the last few days, was seldom at 
home, and had become every bit as silent, shy, and 
gloomy as when he first came. The probability was 
that he was in despair at the prospect of parting from 
them, and especially from Ragni ; but it was strange that 
this despair should have begun exactly between three 
and five o’clock on Wednesday afternoon. At three 
o’clock they had played duets together and had been in 
the best of spirits ; at five o’clock she had fixed to go 
through some of the last remaining work for his exam- 
ination with him, but he came home so hopelessly absent 
and inattentive, that they were obliged to give it up. 
From that day he had been always like that. Kallem 
teased Ragni, and told her the youth was in love; it 
had come over him suddenly, just before the “bitter 
hour of parting.” Kallem sang : “ Two thrushes sat on 
a beech-twig,” and prophesied that she would very 
shortly receive a declaration, probably in verse ; he him- 
self had done the very same in his day. May-be he 
would shoot himself. She need not imagine that anyone 
at his age could escape the charms of her crooked nose 
without a little heart-chill. 

When the youth sat staring down on her in alarming 
silence, neither eating nor uttering a word ; when he 
played in the most melancholy style, and always left 


MANHOOD. 


21 3 


them to seek solitude; then Kallem said: “How black 
is life!” He imitated the youth’s languishing eves at 
her, went sighing upstairs, passing his hands through 
his hair and crying. But to Karl himself he was exces- 
sively kind. 

When the hour of parting came, there was an end to 
all joking, for Karl was in such a state of despairing 
grief that no one could speak to him ; they only tried to 
hurry him away. Ragni would not go with them to the 
station, his exaggerated manner quite alarmed her. 
But when Karl saw that she was still standing on the 
steps, he jumped down from the carriage and rushed 
up to her again. She retreated, but he followed her, 
looked at her, and cried so bitterly, that the servant who 
stood a little behind them felt so sorry for him, that she 
began to cry too. Ragni remained cold and silent ; she 
could have no idea that Karl was then doing the noblest 
deed he had done — feeling more deeply than ever be- 
fore in his life. 

There were people at the station who noticed his 
great despair, as well as Kallem’s serious face. Espe- 
cially did they notice that Ragni was not of the party. 
Had Kallem heard anything? 

This conclusion to their intercourse with Karl Meek 
left an uncomfortable feeling. They did not willingly 
speak about him ; in fact, they both felt a doubt as to 
whether they had done right in having him in the house ; 
they ought to have foreseen that it would end like that. 
But nothing was said about this either by one or the 
other of them. Their own life together drew them 
closer and closer to each other ; never before had Kallem 
been so much at home, or taken such an interest in all 
her doings. 

The whole summer was devoted to the “ fever pavil- 
ion ; ” they were never tired of watching the building, 
or of seeing it all arranged and put in complete order. 
And now that all the summer tents stood there, the good 
arrangement and order of the hospital was quite che 
talk of the place. 

But whilst they were thus alone, dividing their time 
between the hospital, their studies, the garden, and the 
piano ; indeed, just because they were alone, something 


214 


IN GOD'S WAV. 


seemed to affect all their moods, something they had 
both thought of for long, and that grew and grew for 
that very reason that they never mentioned it. Soon 
they could hardly be together without fancying they 
read something about it in the other’s eyes. 

Why could they have no children ? Was the fault 
Ragni’s ? Would she do nothing in the matter ? 

By degrees he had found out that she was too shy to 
allow of his being the one to mention it. Would she 
not venture to speak about it herself ? Not even’show 
a wish to say something, so that he could help her out 
with it ? What was the reason ? Was it terror of an 
examination — an operation ? He seldom saw her now 
without feeling that she was thinking about it. And 
she for her part thought : he misses a child. 

The end of August, Ragni got a great big letter with 
the Berlin postmark on, from Karl Meek ! It was most 
welcome to both of them, more than they would at first 
allow. 

Karl had been to the festival at Bayreuth, he depicted 
his impressions in glowing colours and enthusiastic lan- 
guage. The whole letter was taken up by that, and 
four or five lines of thanks and greetings — and at the 
end a question : “ May I be allowed to write to you 
again ?” They both felt at once that the real letter con- 
sisted of these four or five lines, all the rest was just an 
intellectual envelope. Kallem quite approved, and was 
anxious that she should begin a correspondence with 
him ; it might in more ways than one benefit him while 
he was abroad. 

Without feeling particularly inclined — as had often 
been the case when she and Karl studied together — but 
more in a spirit of obedience and good nature, she sat 
herself down and wrote humorously, as she got over it 
best in that way, and had an answer from him — first 
one, then another, long, long letters, whole diaries. 

Ragni was in the garden one day, early in October, 
gathering fruit and things for the kitchen. She went 
across to the railing by the church road as a carriage 
came driving slowly upwards. A very stout man sat on 
the seat, swaying about with the jolting of the carriage, 
like milk in a pail. Ragni's pigeons were winging their 
homeward flight from the church roof and flew just over 


MANHOOD. 


2iS 


the carriage ; the peculiar flapping of the wings made 
him turn his head in the direction they were flying. 
“ Are those pigeons ? ” asked he, and the coachman an- 
swered. 

Ragni was just going to climb up on a ladder to 
gather some apples, but she had to hold fast ; that 
iieavy voice, that drawling dialect, and that north coun- 
try monotony, all that belonged to Soren Rule ! His 
blind eyes were partly turned to where the pigeons 
were, and partly to where the answer had come from, 
as he was driven slowly rumbling away. 

Soren Rule here ? Surely a blind, half-paralyzed man 
does not go travelling about? The inheritance which 
twice had fallen to his share, could it be that, that had 
brought him here ? 

Shortly after, Rallem arrived. She saw directly that 
he too had met Rule, and he saw at once that she had 
retreated into the big room to hide herself ; they met 
there, she laid her head on his shoulder ; it seemed to 
her there were evil spirits in the air. 

Rallem said to himself : If Soren Rule has come to 
take possession of one of the places bequeathed to the 
family, and is going to move up here, then Josephine 
must have had a hand in it ; her “spirit of justice ” has 
been on the alert. 

The only person in the whole world whom he thought 
he had not treated well, and to whom he had not tried 
to make amends, was this blind man. 

I will go and seek him out, he thought ; I will speak 
openly with him. I can at the same time make it clear to 
him, that for Ragni’s sake he must not remain here. 

He soon heard where Rule lived : in the house just 
behind theirs ; in the park, next to the hospital ! 

So this share of the inheritance had fallen to him ; 
and were they to have him here every day ? 

He walked about a long time trying to gain some 
control over himself ; but when he stood in front of the 
house, he was still so indignant that he had difficulty in 
keeping calm. It was a little stone house two stories 
high and with a garden in front ; in the passage he could 
hear sounds of washing up from the kitchen, and looked 
in there first. There stood the Norland giant kitchen- 
maid with tucked-up sleeves, as unchanged as if they 


216 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


had parted yesterday. As the door opened, she looked 
over her shoulder and recognised directly the tall man 
with the spectacles, with hooked nose and bushy brows ; 
she smiled and turned round to him. “ Surely that is 
Kal-lem?” she sang out. 

“Yes.” 

“ I was told yesterday that you lived here,” she 
smiled still more. 

Oh, you sly fish, thought he, you have known it a long 
time. 

“When did you come here ? ” 

“We came yesterday.” 

“From Kristiania?” 

“From Kristiania; Kule has inherited this house, 
and folks say living is cheap here.” A door opened at 
Kallem’s back, he turned round ; a squarely built man 
with small, clever, but suspicious looking eyes, put his 
head cautiously out at the door. Kallem shut the kitchen 
door, the other then came quite forward and shut the room 
door; so they stood opposite to each other. But the 
kitchen door was opened again, and the Norland servant 
girl looked out and smiled to the man. Kallem guessed 
there was some sweet secret. 

“ Is that your husband ? ” 

“Yes, since last sum-mer.” The man looked like a 
sailor. 

“ Can I see Kule to speak to ?” 

The square man put on a very solemn expression ; he 
would go in and ask. He stayed away a long time, Kallem 
heard them arguing, now Kule’s monotonous drawl, now 
the other's short, dry Trondhjem dialect, both voices 
lowered. Meanwhile Oline told him all about her hus- 
band, that he had been pupil at a seminary, had passed 
a mate’s examination, spoke Spanish, and was now 
Kule’s secretary and right hand. Then she told him 
about the “children,” that they were at wife Ren- 
dalen’s school in the west country ; though for that 
matter, said she, the school belongs no longer to wife 
Rendalen, but to the son, “ who used to live with us.” 

And then all at once : “ And your wife ? How is your 
wife ? So you made her your little wife, eh ? Oh, how 
delightful it will be.” 

The door was opened, the square man stood aside and 


MANHOOD. 


2i 7 


let Kallem pass in to Kule. He sat in the very same 
. big roller-chair, with the same board before his legs, 
with the same Spanish pictures round him, the same 
furniture, only it had another and very faded covering. 
The piano and the children’s toys were missing. 

The man himself was very gray and had grown much 
stouter. The “ swimmers ” lay as usual on the arms of 
the chair ; a long pipe stood beside him, quite empty. 

Kallei^gave his name ; Kule did not answer, but a 
slight movement of the healthy hand and some deep 
groans showed that he was .agitated. Kallem too had 
difficulty in keeping quiet. To cut short the agony, he 
remarked at once, that Kule was perhaps not aware 
that they were neighbours ? 

Yes, he was. 

“ I should not have thought so,” replied Kallem, 
clearly showing by his tone of voice what he thought. 

Kule was silent. 

“ Shall you remain living here ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Kallem looked at the blind countenance ; it was cold 
and impenetrable. Kallem felt it would be useless to 
expect him to have a shadow of regard for Ragni ; he 
was seized with a terrible loathing. “Then I have 
nothing more to say,” said he, and got up. 

The kitchen door stood ajar. “ Be so good as to give 
my respects to your wife ! ” 

It was only when he found himself outside that 
Kallem remembered the original object of his visit ; but 
Kule’s increased brutality freed him from any oblig- 
ation. Consequently, in future he was to be their neigh- 
bour. They must therefore try and bear their own 
past, as others did. He hurried on, away from the town ; 
he dared not at once go home. She could not bear any- 
thing bad or wicked in any shape whatever ; he must 
think over the best way of taking this. 

When he at last reached home again, Ragni was in 
the office and had lit the lamps there. At once she read 
her doom in his face — ay, had even heard it in his foot- 
step. She sank down in her chair and felt as though 
there never more could be any happiness in life. 

He tried to make it clear to her that, as she was not 
to blame, she ought not to be afraid ; she shook her 


218 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


head, for it was not that. No, it was the cruelty of it, 
that was what she could not stand ; the cold chilling- 
ness. She reminded him of what he himself had said 
by Kristen Larssen’s grave. 

But surely they could not compare themselves to 
Kristen Larssen ? They had so much of all that gave 
warmth. Yes, certainly — but a good name ! “ In de- 

priving me of that, they shut out all warmth.” And 
again, in a little while : “ This is the cold .chill.” She 
did not weep, as she usually did. 

“ Then we will go away from here ! ” exclaimed Kal- 
lem. 

As though she had long since been considering the 
matter, she answered : “ What doctor is rich enough to 
buy up all that you have sunk in this place ? And your 
work ? Work that you live for and that gives you so 
much happiness ? No, Edward ! ” 

“ But I can do nothing, if you are going to be un- 
happy,” and he kissed her. She did not answer. 

“ What are you thinking of ? ” 

“Yes, I believe you can.” 

“ What is it that I can ? ” 

“ Work and be happy without me,” answered she, and 
burst into tears. He folded her in his arms and waited 
quietly ; she must feel that she had wounded him. 
“In reality I am not suited to you.” 

“ But, Ragni dear ! ” 

“Oh, yes, as your good friend and comrade, the best 
you have in the world ; would that I might be it for 
long ! ” 

She pressed closer in to him, as though wishing to 
put a seal on his silence. 


X. 

The next day was foggy. Although Ragni had slept 
well and dreamlessly, her head felt heavy and she went 
about in the same cheerless way as yesterday ; there 
was no longer any gloss on anything. At first she would 
not even go to the kitchen ; she imagined that from the 
window there she could see the house where Kule lived. 


MANHOOD. 


219 


However, she had doubts about it and ventured out ; 
she could not see it. Then she dared not go for her 
morning round in the garden ; he might come driving 
past. At last she sat down to the piano, but got up 
again without playing. Then she wrote a letter to 
Karl ; she owed him an answer to two of his, and she 
must occupy herself with something. She wrote ac- 
cording to the mood she was in, that all kinds of wick- 
edness, lying, treachery, double dealing, arbitrary per- 
secution, cunning, deceit, were like a death-chill. It 
was that we had to fight against ; for life is warmth. 
Some people were more susceptible to cold than others ; 
just as some could suffer from tubercular disease, and 
others not, and she was surely one of those unfortunate 
ones. From the time she was a child she had been ex- 
posed to many a cold chill, and at last this rush of cold 
air was stronger than were her powers of resistance ; 
this was the whole question. 

It was not a long letter ; for in thinking of her child- 
hood and of all she had gone through later on, until her 
marriage with Rule, she felt a desire to write it all down, 
and, when the occasion offered, to give it into Kallem’s 
faithful keeping. She could not tell it him by word of 
mouth ; but could she write it ? Yes, now she could. 
A vague fear urged her on, and she began that same 
day. 

She summoned up all her strength to enable her to 
be calm and collected when Kallem came home. He 
looked searchingly at her, but was himself in a great 
state of excitement about something fresh and quite 
different. He was about to perform an operation that 
both the other doctors, and a third who had been called 
in from some distance, thought doubtful. 

One of the most highly thought of men in those parts, 
a Colonel Baier, had suffered for more than a month 
from inflammation of the coat of the stomach with symp- 
toms of septicaemia. The military surgeon, Dr. Arentz, 
was his family doctor, and treated him in the usual way, 
with water compresses and opium. But the illness was 
a serious one, and Arentz wished that Kallem should 
join in the consultation. The wife was opposed to this 
— not exactly because she was a zealous Christian, but 
because she had an uncomfortable feeling when with 


220 


IN GOD’S WAY. 


Kallem. She was a good, warm-hearted creature, but 
hysterical, and such people are generally either violently 
for, or violently against, one. Tuft, the minister, had 
once saved her "; she was ill from sheer weakness, noth- 
ing did her any good, until he came and roused her 
will by faith — a fact none could dispute ; since then she 
raved about him. 

The doctor from the neighbouring district, together 
with Dr. Kent, were both sent for ; but both were hon- 
est enough to say that nothing could be done, the col- 
onel was rapidly dying, and an operation would be im- 
possible. 

But now her love for her husband proved stronger 
than her antipathy for Kallem ; she had the horses put 
to the carriage and drove herself to fetch him ; he was 
willing to perform the operation and at once. With- 
out allowing himself to be over-ruled by the others’ ob- 
jections, he opened the abdominal cavity, discovering 
therein pus, and also opened the large intestine. 

This incident called for all his strength of character, 
especially as the others had been so opposed to it. The 
colonel was looked up to and respected by all ; all were 
interested, both in town and country, and his wife’s 
state was such that, should the husband die, she would 
go out of her mind. From having disliked Kallem, she 
grew to have the most unbounded confidence in him ; 
his presence seemed to magnetize her. Kallem was, of 
course, very anxious. 

Ragni found other things to think of besides herself 
when she saw in what a state of anxiety and responsi- 
bility he was in before the operation, and it was even 
worse the first few days after. In such like emergen- 
cies she would always keep all petty trifles from him 
with rare tact, encouraging and pleasing .him, living 
solely and entirely for him. To be allowed to be some- 
thing for such a man as that, that in itself spread 
“ warmth ” enough ! 

The colonel recovered, Kallem went about in the 
best of humours, Ragni took up her playing again, and 
all her usual work, even ventured out into the garden 
and allowed her eyes to wander to the house up yon- 
der ! She heard the carriage rumbling past without 
trembling more than the least little wee atom ; she was 


MANHOOD. 


221 


accosted by the Norland servant going to market with 
her basket, and although she felt it was like being 
stung by a snake, yet she survived it. One day she 
even managed to talk to her — and accustomed herself to 
expect her coming every morning without making her es- 
cape. This was not because she was courageous, far 
from it ; but she did it, and felt more at her ease. 

The weather changed to severe cold ; the leaves blew 
about in the north wind, the fields were frozen and 
covered witli hoar-frost every morning, the stoves burnt 
with a roaring noise rivalling the rumbling of carts and 
carriages outside on the hollow-sounding frosty ground. 
Each day there was a suggestion as to putting in double 
windows and shutting up the balcony doors ; each day 
it was put off. There might possibly still be some fine 
days. 

One day she had had letters from America, from Nor- 
land, from Berlin — the latter was from Karl ; she had 
opened them all, but had not read any of them ; there 
was too much to do getting the house ready for the 
winter. Still she found time to read her sister’s letter 
in the afternoon, and it troubled her; her sister was not 
well ; Ragni thought about getting her down to stay 
with her. The last two or three letters from Karl had 
been decidedly home-sick ones, he felt so melancholy ; 
so she had no particular wish to peruse this last letter. 
She was just then reading an American novel, one of 
Howell’s best, an impressive and exciting soul-picture ; 
so she sat down to that first when she went into the 
office toward evening. But something in the story re- 
minded her of Karl, so she laid the book aside and took 
out his letter. As usual, page upon page, very interest- 
ing, but so thoroughly heart-sick. When she came to 
the last sheet, there was written on it in red ink : 
“ Read this when you are alone !” 

He wrote : “From the moment I received your letter 
about the ‘chill cold of wickedness,’ I have been un- 
certain whether or no I would tell you that I under- 
stood it at once. For long I have known what was said 
about us. Such a cruel slander ! It was this that 
nearly drove me mad last summer, when I heard of it 
just before we parted. Is it not terrible? I thought 
that there could not possibly be anything that would 


222 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


wound me deeper than this ;* but now it has come : You 
have heard of it too — that must be the meaning of your 
letter. 

For weeks I have thought about it. But it is better, 
for my own sake and for yours, that we should speak 
about it ! Do not let Kallem hear of it ! I am so 
dreadfully ashamed, I am so unhappy — ah, if you knew 
how unhappy I am ! but let us spare him ! 

“ Therefore I write this on a separate sheet, and will 
always do so in future. 

“Also on account of something else which I am now 
coming to, my dear, my darling ! 

“ From the very beginning when you were so good to 
me, you were most dear to me ; I could not think that 
you or anyone could be more dear. But now we are as 
it were linked together by this shame and grief, we two 
must bear it alone, and now, God knows, I only live, 
suffer, and work in thought of you. You are ever with 
me, from morn till eve, and in my dreams at night. 

“Move you, love you, love you ! I write this weeping. 
I love you, love you, love you ! 

“ Perchance this word shocks you, shocks you more 
t\ian what has gone before and has called it forth. But 
if you knew what joy it is just to write it down and 
know that you will read it ! You are so good, and you 
know that I have the most unbounded respect for you.” 

When Kallem came home at eight o’clock, the supper 
table was laid in the dining-room ; the lamps were 
lighted in the office, and it was warm ; but both rooms 
were empty, the big room was dark. Sigrid came rn 
with the tea, and told him that her mistress had gone to 
bed. 

To bed ? was she ill ? 

“ I think she was only tired.” 

Kallem went upstairs directly. It was dark ; but he 
saw in the moonlight a white arm in a night-gown 
stretched out toward him. “ Forgive me,” she said ; 
“ but I felt so tired, and then there was a letter from my 
sister which made me sad. No, don’t light the candles ! 
It is so nice like this.” 

What a fresh and healthy atmosphere there was about 
him, his voice was so strong as he answered : “ From 

your sister ? ” 


MANHOOD. 


223 


“Yes, she does not thrive up yonder.” 

“ Suppose we get her down here ? ” 

“ I was just going to ask you for that. How good 
you are ! ” and she began to cry. 

“ But, my darling, why do you cry? I assure you the 
only reason why I did not speak of it sooner was, that 
you wanted so much for us to be alone.” 

“ Yes, of course it is delightful. But supposing one 
of us were to be ill ? ” 

“Nonsense, we are not going to be ill. You are 
strong now too. Your head is rather hot. Let me feel 
your pulse ! Oh, it is nothing but rest that you need. 
It was right of you to go to bed. I shall go down and 
have my supper, I am ravenous; then you can be quiet. 
You had a letter from Karl ?” 

“ Yes, it is lying on the desk.” 

“All right, I shall read it while eating. After that I 
must be busy. Good-night !” 

He kissed her, she put both her arms round his neck, 
drew him down to her, and kissed him. “You darl- 
ing ! ” 

He went away ; she heard his quick step on the stairs 
and going to the room door ; heard him open and 
shut it. 

Again there was that pain in her chest which his com- 
ing had dispelled, his very footstep scared away. It 
w T as something oppressive, dreadful, unheard-of, some- 
thing she would never get rid of, and then she began 
to shiver. Cold, cold, cold ; now it had reached to the 
very innermost. She felt now, with a shudder, why 
“the whale” had come and taken possession of the 
little house close by, and would not ever leave it. Now 
she knew why the others had allow r ed it. 

<4 Alas! what has happened, what have I done?” 
moaned she, and tried to hide from herself. Karl’s 
words of love sounded like a whispering voice amid 
thundering billows. Poor boy ! She lay there in the 
dark that she might not be seen, and in order to think 
it over. What ought she to do ? She had kept back 
that last sheet, ought she to show it to Kallem ? 

When Kallem came up to bed shortly after twelve, 
she had fallen asleep in the midst of all her sorrowful 
reflections. He lighted the candle behind her, looked 


224 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


into her face, and listened to her breathing. She was 
sleeping innocently, open-mouthed. 

The next morning she walked backwards and forwards 
before the south side of the house, equally terrified, 
equally undecided. There had been snow, but it was 
nearly all melted again ; it was the first snow that win- 
ter. A thick fog lay over the mountain ridges, so thick 
that it looked like a separate, impenetrable country, 
bordering on the mountains and stretching as far as the 
eve could reach. A long tongue of this strange country 
jutted out into the wood like a secret of utmost impor- 
tance. She felt cold, she could not go far without be- 
ing seen by people on the road, and to-day she could 
not let herself be seen, perhaps never again. 

A useless fight that, among the different kinds of trees 
round about the farms. Furthest away from the houses 
a forest of firs ; it looked almost black through the 
heavy mist ; nearer to the houses a wood of leafy trees 
began, long-necked aspen and twisted birch, showing 
light yellow against the dark ; nearer still there was 
mountain-ash and bird-cherry, blood-red in colour ; ma- 
ple, too, and other trees in endless variety of shades, 
from colourless as flax to deep red-gold. Tall asps and 
alders, too old to bear foliage, spread their naked 
branches out over the bright colours of the others, like 
blue-gray smoke. 

She stamped her feet, but could not get any warmth 
into them ; she would not go further, nor yet go in before 
she had decided what she was to do! What if Kallem 
did get to know of it? And what if he did not ? 

The meadows were divided in two by ploughed fields. 
Besides that there were only dull green fields of rye, 
sown in harvest-time, clover-fields in stubble. But see 
those discontented gray-looking fields further away from 
the houses, that are never noticed except when they are 
to be plundered ; there are too many of them in the 
country. 

But Juanita? How did she get into this harvest pic- 
ture ? The freshest, clearest reminiscence of that first 
spring ? Ah, now awoke her longing for the children. 
Now she was sure that he was not where they were ; so 
she could travel down to Rendalen’s and see them. 

As long as that lasted she would not be forced to 


MANHOOD. 


225 


decide what was the right thing to do ; and she needed a 
respite. Just a short little letter to Karl Meek, that he 
must not write to her oftener just now, perhaps later 
on ; she would let him know. These few words to 
Karl — should she telegraph them ? Not from here ! 
But she would start at once and telegraph on her 
way. 

There arose in her a purpose, a command as strong 
as though she had nothing left for her to do but to see 
the children once again. When Kallem came home 
soon after, and she was pacing up and down the floor to 
try and get her feet warm, she said to him that she must 
see the children again, and it seemed to him that the 
recollection of her life together with Kule had turned 
into a longing for the children ; this was very natural. 
“Start at once !” said he ; “later on it may be too 
cold. ” He did not quite mean it to have been to-day ; 
but that was what she wished, and in the afternoon he 
took her to the station. 

As soon as she arrived at the Rendalens, she wrote a 
despairing letter, the meeting with the children had 
been terrible ; they did not know her ! And she, 
too, hardly recognised them ! They were certainly well 
brought up children, but not as though they had 
belonged to her sister ; there was no family likeness 
there, but a likeness to him, the father — he come of a 
stronger race. They were big, fat children ; they stared 
at her without being able to understand her. And all 
the other strange faces, always noticing and watching 
her. She would have gone home again directly, if she 
had not had such a very bad cold. Her next letter was 
a little more cheerful ; not because she was better 
pleased with the children — they were just like strangers 
and were wanting in “ spirituality ; ” each time she took 
them in to her room to talk to them, or play for them, 
she could feel that it bored them. But her intercourse 
with the excellent people at the school and in the 
neighbourhood, afforded her great pleasure ; “ if only 
we had something similar,” said she, with a sigh. 

He had a letter from Rendalen, too, expressing, in 
strong terms, the delight of the entire little colony at 
having her amongst them. He put forward “an unani- 
mous request ” to be allowed to keep her for a time ; 

15 


226 


IN .GOD'S W AY. 


she seemed tired after her journey and not very well ; 
it would be good for her to have a rest. 

She remained away a fortnight altogether. She came 
home again one cold day in mid-winter, looking pale, 
having still a bad cold, and very nervous, incapable of 
saying how dreadful it was for her to be again amongst 
people who looked upon her as an improper person. Kal- 
lem was alarmed at her cold and at her looking so ill ; 
their meeting could hardly be called a meeting, there was 
an anxious examination of her chest, a languid account 
of her visit ; she was tired and wished to go to bed. 

Kallem asked if she had had any letter from Karl ? 
None had been received here. No, she had had none 
either. Had she not written to him? No, Karl had 
confided a secret to her which she did not approve of. 
Often before there had been, so to speak, knots on the 
thread, which had only been explained to him later, and 
now, as she did not look up at her husband, lie felt that 
he ought not to ask questions. 

She was in bed several days. There was no getting 
rid of a nasty dry cough she had ; otherwise there were no 
dangerous symptoms ; none at all. The first day she 
was up he thought she had grown very thin ; her face had 
a tired, delicate expression, and there were dark rings 
under her eyes. She longed for fresh air, but she re- 
fused, in the most determined way, to go for any walks 
outside the garden. At first she said it was so tire- 
some ; when that excuse did not hold good, she hit 
upon a better one : she began to cry. He thought this 
was a strange symptom ; was it possible that she was in 
the family way ? He comforted himself with this hope 
and waited. She went for walks in the garden, and then 
told him about them with much pride ; but she hid from 
him the fact that she always went out at dusk. Mean- 
while she herself thought she was better, and he fancied 
so too. 

Time went on ; he was expecting that which he 
longed to hear, and thought he noticed other symptoms ; 
but he was alarmed too sometimes, as she seemed to him 
to grow thinner and thinner ; he could not get her to 
eat. One evening, when he was out, she had as usual 
gone into the garden and walked about at dusk, had 
felt a chill afterwards, and great oppression on the 


MANHOOD . 


227 


chest ! She was asleep when Kallem went to bed, but 
he was awakened later by her coughing. He lit the light 
and saw that she pressed her hand to her chest. 

“ Have you a pain there ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Where is the pain ?” 

“ Here ! ” and she pointed to the right collar bone. 

“Does it hurt you there when you cough ?” 

“ Yes.” And at that moment she was seized with a 
violent fit of coughing. He got up, dressed himself, 
put fire in the stove, rang the bell for the servant to 
fetch him some medicine, and then sounded her chest, 
asking her many questions. She told him about the 
chill she had had that evening, and that she was in the 
habit of taking her walks at dusk. 

“At dusk !” exclaimed he, and that was sufficient to 
make her hide her face. She must promise him now to 
be good and not do such things any more ; she would 
have to stay in bed now for several days. She did not 
relish the mustard-plaster on her chest ; but the cough 
lozenges were a success. He concealed his distress by 
joking and by petting her — and in a few days she did 
actually seem as well as he could expect. And now she 
had become so obedient ; she kept in the house quite 
quietly for a fortnight. Her cough was less frequent ; 
those violent fits of coughing had made her chest so 
sore ; but, on the whole, she felt tolerably well, only very 
tired and breathless ; feeling as if she had no wish to 
touch the piano. 

A path was made for her in the garden, and she went 
out there for the first time with Kallem in the middle of 
the day, but went in again almost directly. At first he 
was frightened, seriously alarmed ; but then from her 
manner he concluded it was only a little capriciousness. 
However, she felt weaker even than she would allow. 
The next day she tried together with Sigrid ; but after 
the first few steps she became so breathless that she 
was obliged to stop and rest ; she begged Sigrid not to 
tell ; it would pass over when she “ had more practice.” 
The weather was mild, in the middle of the day there 
were even a few degrees of warmth, and she felt better, 
could walk further ; Kallem was delighted when he saw 
one day that she had opened the piano. 


228 


7 AT GOD'S WAY. 


One evening Soren Pedersen appeared, pale and by 
himself — two very unusual things. What was the mat- 
ter? The matter* was that Kristen Larssen’s ghost 
haunted the place ! Kallem shouted with laughter, but 
Soren’s face never altered ; it was quite true that Kris- 
ten Larssen’s ghost had been seen ! The latter years of 
his life Kristen Larssen had never played the violin ; he 
gave it to Aune. But now he plays the violin, and in 
his own house ! Did nobody live there ? No, the house 
was shut up ; but all the same he played ! Several peo- 
ple had heard it ; there was not the slightest doubt. It 
must be some lover of practical jokes who had got in 
there. Who kept the key ? 

“A nephew of the widow.” 

“And who may that be ?” 

“ Aune.” 

“ There we have it ! ” 

“ But Aune has himself helped to search the house ; 
and Aune is the most frightened of the lot.” 

A servant, whose child was ill — Kallem knew her, he 
was her doctor — had seen Kristen Larssen one night 
when she was out, vanishing along by the wall of the 
house! Since then several others had seen it. “No 
one doubts it,” said he. What did the doctor think 
of this, that the colonel’s wife, went into the saddler’s 
shop one day to tell them that she had dreamt she 
saw Kristen Larssen sitting in a long room, amongst 
many clever and learned men who were all being taught 
to spell. She had felt drawn to tell Soren Pedersen this, 
as it was Kristen Larssen who had led him astray. “ And 
will you believe it, doctor, that very night both Aune 
and I had dreamt that the colonel’s wife came to the 
shop ! ” 

. “ Now I will tell you something just as strange, Soren 
Pedersen. The first day that my wife and I were here 
in the town, we met Andersen, the mason, Karl Meek, 
Kristen Larssen, Sigrid, you and your wife, all in the 
Course of a quarter of an hour ! ” 

Soren Pedersen rolled his round eyes about in a 
stupid sort of fashion ; there was nothing so very strange 
in that. 

..“Not at all ; for the other hundred people we took 
no notice of. Just as you, Soren Pedersen, never think 


MANHOOD. 


229 


about the hundreds of people you and Aune dream of 
without seeing them come to the shop the following 
day.” 

This did not convince Soren Pedersen. 

Superstition was afloat. One person followed the 
other’s lead ; the whole town soon talked of nothing 
else, and particularly after the minister was mixed up in 
the affair. He had lived alone with his mother since 
the spring. His wife and child had been away, and had 
only returned quite recently. During all this time his 
preaching had increased in severity, latterly it had had 
a passionate ring which foreboded a storm. He an- 
nounced at the meeting-house that believers were aware 
that spirits live and work amongst us, and that many 
poor souls had to wander about after death ; these were 
well-known facts, sent as warnings to each generation. 

When Kallem heard about this he decided to act on a 
thought which he had had for some time, namely, to get 
Aune in his power. He was very unwilling ; having an 
inventive mind, hegenerally managed to get out of most 
scrapes ; he could talk so persuasively that he had be- 
fore this taken Kallem in ; but now he was not to es- 
cape ! His wife agreed to it, so one Sunday morning 
Kallem hypnotized him, in her presence, down in the 
office of the hospital — first of all on account of the 
brandy, but also to clear up this ghost story, which of 
course no other than this rascal had set afloat ! Thus it 
happened. Now, there was one great difficulty about 
it : if it were discovered, Aune would be done for; his 
wife thought of this and interceded for him. There was 
nothing left but to forbid his proceedings — and then 
hold their tongues. 

This did not prevent Kallem, on his morning rounds, 
telling Kent, who did not believe in ghosts more than 
he himself did, that he had discovered where the tale of 
Kristen Larssen’s ghostly reappearance sprang from ; 
the whole was a prearranged affair. So, when Dr. Kent 
met Josephine one day visiting one of his patients, and 
knowing that nothing was so dear to her as hearing 
news of her brother, he repeated Kallem’s words. Dur- 
ing dinner little Edward, who held forth everlastingly 
about these ghost stories, told them that Kristen Larssen 
had again appeared to two boys ; one was a son of 


230 


IN GOD'S IV A V. 


Aune, and the other was a son of the lay-preacher! 
Edward was bursting with excitement. Shortly and 
decidedly, his mother proved to him that this was noth- 
ing but deception ; one of the doctors from the town 
had found out who was at the bottom of this fraud ; 
there was not such a thing as Kristen Larssen’s ghost 
at all. 

As soon as the boy had left the dinner-table, the min- 
ister reproved Josephine for her tactless conduct. 

“ How, tactless ? ” 

“Yes, that you could say that to the boy; did you 
hear how he at once tried to screen himself by saying 
that I believed in ghosts?” The minister’s tone was 
not arrogant or even reproachful, and she felt that he 
was right ; therefore she did not answer. But it did 
not rest here, soon after she was in the study. 

“I have been thinking of what you said.” He was 
lying on the sofa, smoking, but got up to make room for 
her ; he was glad she came in. She, however, remained 
standing. “Is the boy to believe a thing because you 
say it, even if it be untrue ? ” 

“No ; but then you could leave it to me to correct 
the error.” 

“Are you quite sure that you would do so ? ” 

“ Pray, what do you mean by that ? ” 

“ Only that you continually teach him things that 
you yourself cannot possibly believe.” 

.“What are you driving at?” He got very red ; for 
he felt that this was the beginning of an explanation. 

“ I have often thought of speaking to you of this,” 
she said, “and now the right moment has come. You 
surely don’t believe that the world was created as it is 
now in six days, six thousand years ago, and that the 
story of the first man and woman, and the patriarchs is 
anything but a tradition ? Likewise everything about 
Paradise. The world and human beings cannot have 
begun by being perfect. But this is what you teach 
the children, and of late even Edward.” 

He now walked up and down the room ; she stood in 
the doorway between the room and the passage. Every 
time he approached her he gave her a decided, yes, 
even a look full of power ; this was not the look of an 
evil conscience, she felt that. To show her in what 


MANHOOD, 


231 


spirit lie wished to act, he stopped and said, quietly : 
“ Shan’t we sit down* Josephine ? ” 

“ No,” answered she, “ I did not come to stay.” 

“ What you call a tradition,” lie said, “is the ever- 
lasting truth that God created everythingand everyone, 
and that sin is a falling away from Him.” 

“Why not teach them in this wise, instead of by un- 
true pictures ? ” 

“ Children understand pictures best, Josephine.” 

“Then tell them that it is only a fairy tale.” 

“ That’s of no consequence.” 

“It is of the greatest consequence that children 
should not learn everlasting truths in an untrue form — 
at least, so I think.” 

He saw that she was working herself up into a state 
of excitement, and reproved her for it ; surely they 
ought to be able to talk together without that. 

“No,” she said, “ I cannot ; for you must know that 
not only our boy’s future, but yours and mine too, de- 
pend on this.” She went up to the desk to be nearer to 
him, maybe too she needed support. 

But he was not to be put down. “If you yourself, 
Josephine, were as thoroughly convinced of the eternal 
truth as you pretend to be, and were you protesting 
for that truth’s sake, then all the rest would be of small 
importance. And what we wish to put in its stead is 
very uncertain too ; we know that everything did not 
exactly happen as the revered Book tells us ; what we 
do not know is what the real state of things was. This 
only we do know, that our life proceeds from God, and 
in God alone can we be happy ; therefore, let both chil- 
dren and grown-up people accept the first teachings of 
our fathers, at any rate for the present.” There was all 
the honest strength of conviction in his words, and they 
were full of power. She was silent for a long time ; 
but all at once something else came over her. 

“Do you know that, if it had not been for the total 
mismanagement of my intelligence and character when 
I was a child, I too would have become — different from 
what I am now ? ” 

“Yes,” he said, coldly, “ I hear that latterly you have 
come to this conclusion ; that faith is the misfortune of 
your life.” 


232 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


“ I never said that ! ” she exclaimed, very pale, “ never 
meant it either ! ” But she added, more quietly : “ I 
have never allowed faith in God and salvation through 
Jesus to be a restraint on my intelligence. Never ! ” 

“ Dear me, how fortunate ! ” said he, but he sighed 
deeply afterwards. 

“ Well, if you don’t intend to listen to me,” she said, 
“ I will just tell you my business straight out. Either 
you stop telling the boy those fairy tales which are not 
innocent ones, since they thus ensnare his understanding, 
or else, Ole, I can no longer consider you as wholly 
conscientious.” 

It was not the first time she had spoken harshly ; 
they had had many a long and bitter quarrel. But she 
had never spoken quite so harshly, never before at- 
tacked his faith in that way. Site had pleaded her right 
to have her own opinions, but always with much abuse 
of his ; she had parried his attacks with sharp weapons ; 
but never before had she talked like that or laid down 
conditions. For long he had been weighed down by 
the knowledge that she was brooding over something ; 
but this fully armed purpose, sustained by such 
strength of mind and so much anger — there they stood 
facing each other ; each sounding the depths of the 
other’s will. He too was boiling over with indignant 
rage, and to put an end at once to anything she might 
imagine, he said : “The boy remains with me !” 

“ With you ? ” she turned ashy pale. “ Have you 
more right to him than I ? Are you his mother?” 

“ I am his father. The Bible and the law constitute 
the father owner of the child.” 

She began to walk up and down, but only between 
the window and door, as though they were the bars of a 
cage ; her bosom heaved, her breathing was audible, 
the paleness of her face, her voice, her eyes, all told of 
the dreadful agitation she was in ; she would never have 
thought him capable of such a thing. 

“ Are you not ashamed of yourself ? Would vou keep 
the boy ? *' 

“ Such is my intention, as sure as God orders me to 
do it. You shall not corrupt our boy ! ” 

“ Corrupt him ? I ? No, that is too much, now I 
will speak out! From my childhood up you gained 


MAX IIOOD. 


power over me in that very same way. Through your 
unwavering faith you gained power over my mind with- 
out my knowing it, for you were so good and devoted. 
In that way you ruined .my nature — that you did — it was 
meant for other things. You gave me an aim, a choice 
in life, I knew nothing of it myself. I tell you all tins 
as it was, without blaming you for it. But you must 
know that you shall not have the same power over my 
child. Not as long as, there is a spark of life in me, in 
spite of both law and Bible. Now you know that, and 
you shall see it too ! ” 

Had she but known that for long, very long, he had 
expected that she would cnofront him in this way, she 
would have spared herself such a terrible outburst of 
passion. He himself was thoroughly master of his 
feelings. 

“Of course, I have led astray your most divine nat- 
ure, I have known it long ! I have done it through 
that faith which you do not possess. My dear, I was 
aware of that before you went away ! ” He spoke slowly 
and impressively. 

“ Oh, so you do know it ! ” she burst forth, passion- 
ately ; “you do know it! Your faith has never been 
mine ; it did not suit me. But I have had none other in- 
stead ; I went about thinking it was a sin that I could 
not have the same faith as you ; I was crushed and over- 
whelmed, not being able to devote all my strength to 
something of my own. Therefore I have never been like 
others. It has all been wrong !” 

“ What would you have been, you ? ” 

“ Let me say the worst — a circus rider,” answered she, 
without as much as moving an eye. He stopped 
abruptly, he could neither believe his ears nor his 
eyes. 

“Circus rider?” He laughed scornfully. “Indeed, 
it has been a great loss for the world — and for yourself, 
Josephine, that you did not become one ! ” 

“ I knew you would think so ! But if I had had to do 
with the management of a circus I could have provided 
bread for hundreds, and healthy amusement for thou- 
sands. That is not so little — it is more than most can do. 
As it is, what have I done ? What empty trifles have I 
been struggling with ? And to what have I attained ? 


234 


IX GOD'S WAV. 


That I am on the point of despising both yourself and 
me ! What has our life — what lias our intercourse come 
to ? Can you even say that you cherish any love for 
me ? Can I say that I am fond of you ? ” 

“No, Josephine, we both know of whom you are 
fond.” 

Had he struck her as her brother had done, she could 
not have been more furious — partly because he had said 
that (she scarcely knew that it had been in his thoughts), 
and partly because this man who made that speecli owed 
everything to her brother and to herself, and yet it was 
he who had come between the brother and sister and 
separated them. 

“Ah, he possesses that which you have not !” she 
answered, seeking to wound him. “ Nevertheless, it is 
cowardly of you to say such a thing.” 

“Is it, indeed? Do you not think that I know it is 
his fault that I have lost you, lost the peace of my home, 
lost, too, all joy in my calling, and am now threatened 
with the loss of my child ?” 

His voice trembled, he began in anger, but it turned 
to deep grief, and it was the same with her. She felt in- 
clined to sob and cry. But neither of them would give 
way to such weakness. She stood looking out of the 
window ; he w’alked up and down the room. There was 
a long, long pause. Again she was overcome with an- 
ger. His step, too, sounded defiant ; still there was si- 
lence. What he had just said was shameful, certainly. 

“Well,” she said, without looking round, “now you 
know the conditions. You can preach about such tales 
as that of Kristen Larssen’s haunting the place, and you 
have not even sought to inquire into the matter ! Just 
as with your tales of Paradise ; you don’t believe in 
them yourself, and yet you can repeat them ! Can I 
have any respect for such conduct ? I must say, my 
brother is much more honest than that! If you "come 
again to my boy with those tales without telling him 
that they are only fairy tales,” and she turned around 
to him, “ then, Ole, there will be an end to our living 
together. Before God, this is the truth. It will never 
be any use your trying to take him from me by such 
means.” She moved toward him : “ I will never sub- 
mit to it, Ole ! ” She left him. 


MANHOOD. 


2 35 


On that very Sunday, at the self-same hour, Kallem re- 
turned home to dine ; his dinner hour was somewhat 
later than his brother-in-law’s. 

He could see Ragni through the kitchen door, with a 
long apron on which reached up to her chin ; she was 
cutting up vegetables on the kitchen table. He took his 
things off in the passage and went in and joined her ; 
latterly he had an ever-increasing fear which he had to 
conceal. Was it the white apron that threw a pale 
shadow over her, or the steam from Sigrid’s cooking ? 
She really was looking fearfully ill. And surely she 
had been crying! It sent a pang through his heart. 
She did not look up from her work, but said : 

“ We are to have a guest for dinner.” 

“ We are ? ” 

“ Yes, Otto Meek, Karl’s father ; he was here this morn- 
ing, and is now coming to dinner.” 

“ How is Karl getting on ? ” 

“ Not well. Oh, here comes Meek !” 

His big head under a fur cap could be seen appearing 
over the prosperous-looking top-coat ; he was at the 
other side of the hedge ; now he turned in, and Kallem 
went to meet him. During the time that Meek prac- 
tised he had turned his attention particularly to diseases 
of the chest, which were but too prevalent in these parts 
of the country, and he took the most lively interest in 
Kallem’s writings and in his work at the hospital ; Kal- 
lem was glad when he came. As he helped him off with 
his coat he said that Ragni had told him Karl was not 
well. 

“ No, he is not.” 

“ What is the matter with him ? ” 

“Well, that is the reason of my coming here,” an- 
swered Meek. 

“ You have spoken to my wife ? ” 

“ Yes.” They both went in. The room was warm and 
cosy, the piano stood open. Had she been playing 
when Meek knocked at the door ? If that were the 
case, then she could not be as ill as she looked ; he* 
longed to examine her chest. 

Meek was more silent and gloomy than ever that day. 

“ Well,” said Kallem, “ did you and my wife come to 
an agreement about Karl ?” 


IN GOD'S WAY ; 


2^6 


Meek looked up at him, rather surprised. “Do you 
mean about writing to him ? ” 

“Yes. You know there has been one or other knotty 
point, as was often the case.” 

“Yes,” answered Meek, and remained sitting there 
quite silent. 

“Do you imagine I know anything of it ? Not I, not 
a scrap.” 

Meek appeared to be more and more perplexed. “ I 
said to your wife she ought to tell you. It is very good 
of her not to do so. But the case is serious.” His 
melancholy eyes looked into Kallem’s. 

“ Serious, do you call it ? ” 

“Yes, I shall be obliged to take him home.” 

Kallem jumped up from his seat. Meek continued: 

“ It is altogether useless, his being there.” 

“ But what is wrong ? Would you like us to try with 
him again?” Kallem thought there was a possibility 
of the youth’s having relapsed into his old ways. Meek 
looked enquiringly at him, almost frightened. 

“ How do you think your wife really is?” he asked. 

Kallem turned red ; it struck him like a shot in the 
midst of his own secret fears. “She caught a nasty 
cold which she cannot get rid of ; for a while I thought, 
. . . I’ll tell you what ! Can’t you sound her chest ?” 

His own doubts had become certainty, his heart beat 
so that he would not have been capable of examin- 
ing her himself. Meek continued to gaze at him and 
Kallem grew more frightened. “Won’t you examine 
her?” 

“ Yes, of course. Has it not been done recently ?” 

“Not very recently. No. I don’t wish to alarm her. 
Because if her imagination begins to work then there 
is danger for her. Besides, there was something else 
. . . However, now I will — ” he would have gone to 

fetch her. 

“Did you know her father?” asked Meek, Kallem 
shuddered. 

“ Did you ? ” 

“Yes, I was doctor to the fisheries up there.” 

“Was he — ?” Kallem asked breathlessly and unable 
to finish his sentence. Meek merely nodded, Kallem 
clasped his head with both hands, hurried to the door, 


A/A AY/ 00 D. 


2 37 


came back again : “ You will examine her now, here, at 
once ? ” 

Kallem led her in tenderly, without giving her time 
to take off her apron ; and carefully brought her up 
close to the windows. Evidently she had been cry- 
ing — and those rings under her eyes, her thinness, her 
colour! She saw his alarm but mistook the cause. 
Out in the kitchen she had been thinking; now they 
must be talking about Karl ; now Kallem will hear why 
it is I get no more letters from him. And now that she 
saw Kallem’s agitation she thought, can he be angry be- 
cause I did not tell him ? She could not bear the idea 
of that, it made her hot and cold by turns. 

“ Ragni, darling, Dr. Meek would like to sound your 
chest.” 

Was that what it was ! She was much alarmed, she 
looked at him with imploring eyes like a stricken deer, 
begging to be spared. But again he entreated her and 
began carefully taking off her big apron ; submissive as 
she was she gave herself up to them. 

Kallem guessed at once, by the other’s manner, by 
his stopping and then listening again that something 
terrible was coming. Her startled eyes sought her hus- 
band’s, and increased his suffering — did she suspect any- 
thing herself? Or was she reproaching him for letting 
anyone but him do this? 

Now the doctor’s great head was pressed to her back. 
At the right side, what was it ? . . . a thickening of 

the tip of the lung? or the tissues ? He imagined the 
worst, and she did the same ; he could see that. Could 
it be that she knew more than she would acknowledge ? 
Concealed something just as he concealed his fears ? 
. . . Good God, such sorrowfully beseeching eyes 

were never seen, save only when the fear of death was in 
them. He was seized with it himself. 

“ Have you been coughing more than usual lately?” 
She seemed uncertain as to what she should answer and 
looked imploringly at Kallem. Her hands were trem- 
bling and she tried to hide it ; Meek noticed it ! “ Do 

you get very tired when you are out walking?” he 
asked. Again she looked at Kallem in despair, as 
though she ought to beg his pardon for it. Do you 
become breathless quickly ? ” continued the other. 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


238 


“Yes.” 

“ Do you at times feel excessively weak, almost as 
though you were going to faint ? ” She now looked at 
Kallem in the greatest alarm. “ Maybe you have 
fainted?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Have you ? ” exclaimed Kallem. 

“Yes, to-day I did,” she said hurriedly, trembling all 
over. 

“ Was that after I had spoken to you ? ” 

“Yes, for I wanted a little fresh air, and then — ” here 
her tears choked her utterance. 

Dr. Meek smiled a little. “ When you cough I pre- 
sume it hurts you here ? ” he pointed to the right collar- 
bone. She nodded. 

“ Have you ever looked at what comes up when you 
cough ? ” She made no answer. “ Have you never 
done that?” 

“Yes, I have ; yesterday evening.” 

“ And how was it ? ” She was silent, staring at the 
floor. “ Was there blood mixed with it ? ” She nodded, 
her tears were falling fast, she did not dare to look up. 

Kallem was speechless. Meek asked no more ques- 
tions. Ragni rearranged her dress, and Meek silently 
handed her a shawl she had taken off whilst he was ex- 
amining her. And as she sat helplessly trying to put it 
on again, Kallem suddenly seemed to think of some- 
thing he had to fetch from the office. He did not re- 
turn. She understood the reason why, and for a little 
while she was doubtful whether she could get up from 
her chair, and felt as if she would faint again ; but the 
thought of him alone in the office helped her to over- 
come her weakness, she must go to him. So she begged 
Dr. Meek to excuse her, got up and went toward the 
dining-room door and disappeared through it. She too 
remained away. 

Meek waited first a few moments, then a little longer 
— and still longer. Then he went out to the passage, 
put on his coat and hat, told the servant in the kitchen 
that he was obliged to leave ; and left many messages 
for them. 

Sigrid looked for them in the rooms, knocked at the 
door of the office, could get no answer, she listened and 


MANHOOD. 


239 


at last opened the door. Kallem was lying on the sofa, 
Ragni kneeling beside him close up to him. Sigrid an- 
nounced very quietly that the dinner was ready and that 
Dr. Meek had gone away. No one answered, no one 
looked up. 

Hitherto Kallem and Ragni had always considered 
that the day when Ragni sailed for America was the 
worst they had ever gone through ; both in their letters 
and in speaking of it they had said that they felt as 
though he must die. But death is different ; it is not 
like anything else. They learned to know that now. 

After that day there came a time full of hopeless 
struggles, speechless despair, and tenderest but joyless 
love. Ragni had various matters “ to arrange,” which 
she quietly set about doing ; she had a good deal too to 
write, and whenever she was able she was thus occupied. 
She wrote, then scratched out ; the whole thing, not- 
withstanding all her work, proved to be a very short af- 
fair. But as long as she was taken up with what she 
had set herself to get done, she really seemed tolerably 
well ; Kallem was quite surprised. 

He himself had lost all courage. He saw the worst 
before him. As long as he could he shrank from exam- 
ining her expectoration*; ... he knew beforehand 
that he would find tubercular bacilli there — that enemy, 
to fight against which he had spent both fortune and 
life. And now it had conquered him in his own house. 
But one day he was obliged to do it — and with the ex- 
pected result. He did not pace up and down the labor- 
atory, neither did he weep nor wring his hands. He 
only tried whether it were possible to think without 
her ; but it ended always by his thinking of her only. 
From the hour they first met — all her little ways, the 
most trifling proofs of her charm and talents, her fail- 
ings and her silent poetical love, he lived all over again 
in equal joy and grief ; it was all just as dear to him, 
and just as impossible to part with ; countless incidents 
full of humour, warmth, fear, sense of beauty, devotion ; 
they all followed him about like so many eyes. Where 
could he go to, what more could he possibly find to do ? 
She was with him in all his work. Her portrait, taken 
in the third year of her stay in America, was standing 
on the edge of the stove ; it had been sent to him orig- 


240 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


inally that he might see what effect the progress of her 
intellectual development had produced in her face and 
eyes, a joyful confirmation of all he had predicted when 
he sent her over there. Now, as always, the eyes of 
the portrait seemed to seek his ; during that time of 
waiting, their smile had cheered and encouraged him ; 
what had it not been for him — that portrait? And now 
there came pouring in on him all the recollections of 
their first meeting, the first words, first shy strangeness, 
the first full and entire recognition, the first embrace. 

Only to remind him that now all must cease. All, too, 
that he had thought of and done in his life together 
with her ; the delight in it, his capabilities, his faith. 
What in all the world had happened ? He was bound 
to speak to her about it ; was there anything she wished 
to hide from him ? Some imprudence which she dare 
not confess ? What could it be ? But he must be very 
careful about it. 

Then one day when he came home she was not down- 
stairs. He went up to her and found her lying down. 
She stretched out her hand — how thin it had become ! 
and fastened her large eyes on him with a faint, half- 
veiled expression : “ I lay down for a little,” she whis- 
pered ; “only for an hour or two.” She did not look 
so very ill ; perhaps because she was in bed. He sat 
down beside the bed and took both her long thin hands 
between his. 

“There is something in all this,” he ventured to say, 

“ which has not been confided to me. Once I was en- 
tirely on a wrong scent, but latterly, too, it has been 
more hurried than I could understand, for this reason, 
that I have not been watchful enough.. There is some- 
thing at the bottom of all this, some great, may be oft- 
repeated imprudence which I have not been counting on. 
Darling, tell it me now ; I shall have no peace until 
you do.” 

“I will tell you. I have just been thinking about it 
now. Down stairs in my writing-table you will find 
some papers in the first drawer to the left ; they are all 
for you. You must read them when — ” she broke off 
abruptly. “By and by,” she added and pressed his 
hand gently. 

“ Then I am not to hear about it now ? ” 


MANHOOD . 


241 


“Yes, what you are asking about? Oh, yes. I only 
had not got so far.” She asked him to help her change 
her position ; he did so. “Yes, you shall hear it now. 
It is for your sake I kept it secret,” her eyes filled — 
“ my own ” — again a gentle pressure of the hand and a 
smile. He dried her tears with his handkerchief, letting 
it slip in under his own spectacles as well. She lay gaz- 
ing at him but did not speak ; had she forgotten or had 
she changed her mind? He bent down over her : 

“Well — ?” lie asked, “you will not tell me?” 

“ Oh, yes, the top paper in the drawer, in Karl’s hand- 
writing ; you may read that at once. But not the 
others.” 

“ Does Karl’s letter contain it ?” 

She nodded slightly, it was barely visible ; then she 
closed her eyes. 

“ The key ?” he whispered. 

“ It is in the drawer,” she answered, without opening 
her eyes and let his hand go. 

He went down-stairs, opened the drawer, and took out 
the letter we know of, and sat down to read it properly. 

His horror! And his indignation — and his helpless- 
ness ! Why had he not known of this in time ? He paced 
up and down the room, raging, he sat down again 
like one paralysed ; he made plans and rejected them ; 
he would have gone to every soul in the place and told 
them they lied. He would force his way into the meet- 
ing-house one fine day when it was crowded, climb to 
the pulpit and accuse them of the most cowardly, treach- 
erous murder . . . then he suddenly remembered 

that even if Ragni had been perfectly well, that would 
have been enough to kill her. 

He himself lived only to do the best he could for all 
people ; and amongst them all there was not one hon- 
est or grateful enough, or even indignant enough to tell 
him that he ought to defend his own and his wife’s good 
name and the honour of his marriage ! What apathy and 
indifference ! What free and open scope for malice 
and for unjust judging of others in this “ Christian ” 
community ! Now he understood his sister — she had 
believed this slander ? It was especially to talk to him 
about this that she had waited for him that evening 
when he — ! And in her indignation at this, which she 
16 


242 


IN GOD'S IVAY. 


so fully and firmly believed to be true (for what will 
not people believe about a free-thinker) she continued 
to bring “ the whale ” right down upon them ! Every- 
one believed it, everyone condemned her without hesita- 
tion. No one stood up for her, not a soul came to the 
rescue. 

This was what Ragni had had to suffer for being so 
kind to Karl ! It had been all the more unselfish of 
her because at first it had cost her a struggle, and in- 
deed later on it had often been an effort, too ; it was only 
now that he knew it. In all his life he had never met 
with any one as good as she was. To think that her 
tender-hearted disposition should thus be . . ! The 

wretches, the false guardians of salvation, psalm-sing- 
ing egotists, heartless prayer-makers ! He read Karl’s 
letter over again ; he felt so heartily sorry for him. 
Poor, poor fellow. His love for her was quite a natural 
thing ; what good honest man would not adore anyone 
who had been wronged so unjustly for his sake ? The 
lad’s gratitude and admiration would necessarily turn 
to love. As soon as Karl came home, he would have 
him over — that he would ! And he should stay, too, till 
she drew her last breath ! And he, and none other, 
would Kallem have to walk with him . . . On that 

terrible day after her coffin ! He flung himself on the 
sofa and cried aloud. 

Perchance he had been too much taken up with his 
own work ; he ought to have associated more with 
people, and taken her more about with him ; then this 
would never have happened. None who had really felt 
a lasting impression of her goodness and pure soul would 
have dared . . . though indeed who can tell ? Such 

creatures of habit, blinded by their dogmas, cannot see. 

In came Sigrid running, her mistress was very ill, had 
a terrible fit of coughing. He crossed the rooms, the 
passage, and was up the stairs in nine or ten bounds; 
the attack was over when he got there; but she lay 
bathed in perspiration, so weak and exhausted that she 
was on the point of fainting. What she had brought up 
in coughing was of a greenish colour and streaked with 
blood — well did he know the look of it. He accounted 
for this, thinking that he had stayed away too long, her 
excitement had increased, she had grown too warm, had 


MANHOOD . 


243 


probably thrown off the clothes and then . . . She lay 

there with eyes closed and he tried what he could to 
make her sleep. After that she never left her room 
again. 

From her he went straight down to his writing-table 
and despatched a letter to Dr. Meek, telling him what 
had happened, and without entering into further details^ 
he wrote : “ If Karl has come, I suppose we shall soon 
see him here? Now I know everything ! ” 

He went out to fetch a woman to sit up at night, but 
went up to her again the moment he got back ; she 
seemed to be easier and was asleep, and when at last she 
did awake, her eyes fell first on him. He waited on her, 
giving her something to drink, and all the questions he 
so plainly read in her eyes, he answered by kissing her 
poor thin hand, for his lips quivered and his glasses 
were bedewed with tears. 

But they talked about other things — how that her 
sister would not be able to come, and that he had him- 
self been to fetch Sissel Aune to help to nurse Ragni ; 
* she was the best person he knew of for that sort of 
thing, and then she was truly devoted to them. Ragni 
nodded her consent. They never wearied of gazing at 
each other, as those do who cannot be satisfied. And 
they both thought of that which they now both knew — 
the cause of her lying there ill. “ Poor Karl ! ” whispered 
she. 

He answered : “ Poor Karl ! ” 

He felt obliged to get up, pretended he had forgotten 
something down-stairs ; he could always make an excuse. 

Had he but been able to talk to her ! But he dared 
not, and he could not find time to be alone. He attended 
to all his hospital work, and received those of his 
patients who came to him ; but he gave up everything 
else so as to sit with her ! 

How terrible it seemed to him that he should have 
given both his work and his fortune to these people, 
and they repaid him by murdering his life’s joy ! What 
kind of measure did people mete with, if they could not 
understand merely by looking at her, that she was the 
purest, the most refined little person amongst them 
all — to him it was inexplicable ; their blindness seemed 
so revolting. All those he knew were, for the most part, 


244 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


plain middle-class people, comfortable and fond of their 
homes in daily life, none of them particularly bright, of 
course ; they were all church-going people, a few attend- 
ed the meeting house too, Pastor Tuft’s body-guard. 
Among the latter he had come across several good, 
prudent sort of people. And yet so pitiless in their 
judgment, so cruelly loving — all of them murderers 
without stain or blemish. 

And there was none he could go to and take by 
the throat, exclaim : “ You have done this ; you are 
answerable to me for this ! ” Meek and lovabie accom- 
plices ! There was one who stood apart from the others 

Josephine. Josephine had not invented this ; that 
was not her way. But she would believe what was in- 
vented when it concerned anyone she disliked. With 
icy-cold silence she would allow other people to keep 
their false, wicked belief in the slander, or she would 
let it go on increasing. Flow indignant he felt in his 
heart toward her ! Although she was certainly not 
the originator of the report — he had to repeat that con- 
stantly, she would hardly sully her lips with such slander, 
she was too grand for that — still Josephine was the most 
to blame for this murder ! He was convinced that how- 
ever little of a Christian she was in herself, her love of 
Christian dogmas had been offended by the little creat- 
ure’s want of faith, and by such a very faulty person 
daring to come and reject their faith. Thence her ex- 
cessive “spirit of justice” which killed with so sure 
and well-meaning a blow. 

But there was this much likeness between them, that 
he, too, was filled with the greatest desire of vengeance. 
He, too, called it “ justice and he had no idea that he 
was lying. When he was with Ragni he never had those 
feelings ; her mere presence always did him good. He 
became deeply agitated if he did feel like that when 
with her, would well-nigh crush her hand, stroke her 
forehead and gazing into her eyes, watch her and wait 
on her till he felt he must go ; otherwise he would have 
knelt down beside her and given way completely. 

Good, helpful Sissel Aune was sitting there now, her 
dark eyes watching over her with prudent calmness, or 
turning sometimes, full of sympathy, to him. She rep- 
resented all those whom he had helped and who would 


MANHOOD. 


2 45 


have helped him had they been allowed. Aase or Suren 
Pedersen came creeping to the kitchen every morning 
to hear how she was, and as the news spread, there came 
others, all quietly sympathetic. Poor Sigrid could not 
go up much to her mistress on account of her crying. 
But would go all the same when such things as this 
happened— for instance when Frau Baier the colonel’s 
wife brought a lovely flower in a pot which she had 
cherished and nurtured through the winter, and which 
she carried under her cloak to protect from the severe 
cold ; it was to be taken up to Frau Kallem and put 
where she could see it. A servant girl, whose child 
Kallem had attended in a severe illness (the same girl 
who had seen Kristen Larssen’s ghost) had also a flower 
in a pot, a single one, and when she heard of Frau Baier’s 
gift she brought hers, too. The pot it was in was very 
common, but what did that matter ? Without such 
tokens of sympathy Kallem could never have borne 
up. 

One day when he had been over to the hospital where 
there was something going on he came back home so 
deep in thought that he did not notice there were strange 
travelling wraps hanging in the passage. He opened 
the door into the room before taking off his own things ; 
and there close by the windows next the veranda stood 
Otto and Karl Meek. Karl was the first to turn round ; 
and he came and threw himself in Kallem’s arms. He 
looked ill, and his manner was restless and confused. 
His long hair was in disorder, his oval face, large in it- 
self, seemed to have grown larger ; his eyes had a burn- 
ing, languishing look in them, the like of which Kallem 
had never seen. They never left his own eyes. They 
besought his indulgence ; they told a tale of bitter sorrow, 
and followed him about wherever he went. Karl could 
not control his feelings, and, as Kallem was obliged to 
talk to his father, Karl began looking about him, went 
up to the piano, stroked the tables with his hands, fin- 
gered the flowers and turned over the music — then went 
out to the dining-room, into the office, stayed there a 
little by himself, and from there out to the kitchen to 
Sigrid, and there he stayed. Kallem looked round after 
him repeatedly ; Dr. Meek noticed it, and said : 

“All we Meeks have strong feelings. We have tried 


246 


IN GOD'S W AY. 


to tame them ; but Karl cannot control his ; they are 
only pent in to burst forth with greater violence.” 

When Karl came back, he had been crying bitterly ; 
Kallem did not wish him to go up to Ragni ; at all events 
he must wait until he was calmer. Karl himself said he 
would be c&lm the moment he went up to her ; he im- 
plored to be allowed to see her ; but to no avail. He 
did not see her the whole of that day, and, as the even- 
ing was always her worst time, she was never even told 
that he was there. 

The next morning, when she had been tidied for the 
day, Kallem let her know that Dr. Otto Meek had come 
to town, and had called yesterday to ask after her. 

“ And Karl too ? ” she asked. 

“ Yes, Karl was with him.” She lay quiet for a little 
without saying anything. 

“ I ought to be able to hear if anyone were to play 
down-stairs.” 

“Yes, if we open the room door; but would it be 
wise?” The passage was warm and shut in by doors, 
the up-stairs rooms were always aired by means of it ; so 
in that respect there was nothing to be afraid of. “ But 
you think you can bear the music ? ” 

“Yes, I long for music,” she answered. 

Sissel Aune looked at the doctor ; she evidently 
thought it was not wise. “ May Karl not come up to 
see you ? ” 

Ragni lay folding the corner of the sheet with the one 
hand, in the other she held her handkerchief ; she did 
not answer ; clearly she had no wish to see him. 

“ But you will see Dr. Meek ? ” 

“ Must I ?” 

Kallem wished him to see her. Dr. Meek came later 
in the day and Kallem told him all. Karl begged most 
humbly to be allowed to stand in the doorway behind 
the others. He promised not to say a word, or make a 
movement, and to go away directly. Kallem felt so 
sorry for him that he could not deny his request. He 
went in first and announced Dr. Meek, who then fol- 
lowed him in. Dr. Meek’s broad back quite hid Karl, 
who placed himself in the door. Ragni lay with her 
face turned from the light, therefore toward the door. 
She did not see Karl, but he caught a glimpse of her 


MANHOOD. 


247 


thin, hollow-cheeked face, of her feverish cheeks and 
dry lips ; her eyes in their glistening brightness, seemed 
pleading for help. The consuming thirst that tortured 
her day and night made Sissel come forward from the 
other side and stand half in front of her, propping her 
up as she gave her something to drink. 

Meek asked her a few questions, but she answered 
him absently and glanced fearfully and timidly from 
side to side ; did she guess that Karl was there ? After- 
wards she moved a little and Sissel slipped back to her 
place ; then she might have seen Karl, but he was gone. 

Later on they found him sitting crouching in the 
down-stairs room, in the greatest despair, but he asked 
if he might stay there and have his former room again ; 
— even if he were not allowed to see her again, he could 
not keep away. Kallem did not dare to refuse him ; and 
his father, too, seemed to wish it. There was something 
about him that made them both feel anxious. 

The next morning Karl played the piano for her ; the 
door down-stairs was open and her door was ajar; the 
music sounded muffled, but very sweet. He had im- 
proved much in his playing ; she did not know the 
piece he played, but it pleased her ; she sent a greeting 
down to him, and that she was very grateful to him for 
it. By-and-by he played something else, and the fol- 
lowing morning he did the same. The result was that 
she sent for him to come up to her. Karl promised to 
be quiet, 0I1 so very quiet, and only to stay there a mo- 
ment. In the passage he already began to walk on 
tip-toe and glided in, mastering his emotion. But as 
soon as he was under the influence of her eyes, as in 
olden days, he could feel that she was afraid of him 
and would rather he went away. This grieved him 
much ; he stood there, the embodiment of an earnest 
entreaty to be allowed to stay. She, too, perceived the 
change in him ; Kallem took her hand and she grew 
calmer. The longer he stood there, the more she 
felt pity for him. He had suffered, lie was a good 
lad ; she tried to smile at him, even stretched out her 
poor wasted hand. Karl looked at Kallem, but did 
not take her hand, nor did he advance a single step ; 
but his agitation increased, and, as though she would 
quiet it, she whispered : “ Good Karl ! ” He went away. 


24B 


IN GOD'S IVAY. 


He was very quiet and silent after this visit, just as 
though he were brooding over some plan or purpose. 
He talked still less to Kallem, and not at all to anyone 
else. Every morning he was allowed to be up-stairs for 
a little while ; he played for her down-stairs, but other- 
wise went about alone the whole day. 

As he was playing one morning, she could tell by the 
first few chords that it was something of his own. Once 
or twice before she had heard some scraps of his own 
composition ; now he had adopted a different method, 
but the originality of his talent suffered by it. This 
new piece was a beginning to something greater, a wild 
introduction full of stormy passions! Heavens! thought 
she, it must be meant for himself. After the crashing 
storm there came a calm, and a melody arose, simple 
and touching; can that be meant for me ? Then there 
came shrieks and yells breaking in upon this peaceful 
little melody ; a few bars of melody and several bars of 
lamentation and crying, the first air rushing and ming- 
ling with the other, all done in a natural sort of way — 
almost too natural, for it became irresistibly comical. 
She had to be careful not to laugh, for she could not 
stand that sort of tiling. She looked at Sissel Aune to 
ask her to hurry dawn and put an end to it ; but Sissel 
Aune’s clever face expressed so much astonishment on 
hearing these most natural shrieks. Dear, dear, can 
people scream like that in music too ? The last hidden 
remains of Ragni’s old merry humour broke out in a 
few peals of laughter, a few more, and then the cough ! 
Again the cough, and again and again, a worse fit than 
she had ever had before. 

Through his playing, Karl heard the bell rung down 
to the kitchen ; he heard Sigrid rush up-stairs and come 
tearing down again calling for the doctor. Karl knew 
that he had just gone across to the hospital, and ran off 
himself, without hat or coat ; he could not find him at 
once, so they did not get back before the fit was over. 
There was a greater quantity of blood than usual. Kal- 
lem was much alarmed, Karl could see, for he had gone 
up-stairs after him almost unconsciously. He retired, 
though, immediately. 

Later in the morning her room was aired, but Kallem 
stayed there all the time ; Karl passed by outside, and 


MANHOOD. 


249 


heard him talking, so he ventured to peep in. Ragni 
lay there much exhausted, but Kallem had just asked 
her if she did not feel any better? She caught a glimpse 
of Karl, with his great, big, frightened face. She recol- 
lected how she had laughed at him, and she had heard 
from Kallem that in his fright he had run to fetch him 
without either coat or hat. She made a sign to Kallem 
that Karl was to come in. She smiled "at him, even 
raised her hand a little, just a very little ; was it to 
thank him ? He ventured to draw nearer, he would take 
her hand to-day. He would do more, he would bend down 
over it ; there came a look into his eyes. Kallem, who 
was standing at her right, saw it ; saw, too, that it was 
the hand she was holding the handkerchief in that he 
would have bent over and perhaps kissed : he hastened 
to say : 

“ Do not do that, Karl." 

Karl drew himself up again and looked at them both ; 
but again there came that strange look in his eyes, and 
in an instant he seized both hand and handkerchief and 
kissed them both. Before anything could be said, he 
stood upright again as though he would challenge them 
all, or had done some mighty deed of valour. Ragni lay 
there with eyes devoid of hope or understanding ; she 
could not take in his warlike attitude, his high-flown 
purpose, but only felt the more convinced of his terrible 
instability. Karl had vanished. 

If his wish were to die with her, it was a mistaken 
calculation, which, under other circumstances, would 
have been amusing, since she had just been tidied and 
arranged after her attack and had had a fresh handker- 
chief given her. But Kallem thought only that what is 
ordered for the best only makes mad folk still madder — 
she had been much startled. 

As soon as he could, he went in search of Karl. He 
found him with his overcoat on, hurrying out. But Kal- 
lem called out : 

“ Where are you going to ? ” 

Karl did not answer ; he was excited and only thought 
of getting away. Kallem drew him into the room, 
placed himself in front of him and looked steadily at 
him, then put his arm round his neck. Upon this, Karl 
burst into tears. He complained that he was altogether 


250 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


impossible ; nobody ever wanted him and he was fit for 
nothing. For long Kallem could not get in a word ; 
the other would not let himself be comforted ; his misery 
and worthlessness were too great, and he was utterly 
without talent. He had that morning been playing his 
latest composition, originated like none other, out of his 
own life ; the most true that he could produce, and it 
had seemed to him to be comical, terribly comical ! Ah 
ha ! thought Kallem, is it that ; that is the matter? 

And it was that. He could feel in her presence how 
she judged him ! 

Kallem saw his mistake in having let him come to 
them at all ; he thought with horror of all Ragni must 
formerly have gone through with him. He had consid- 
erable difficulty himself in keeping him in order just 
now. . 

One day he said to her — she had just been asking 
after Karl — “You evidently have had more trouble with 
him than I had the slightest idea of.” She closed her 
eyes, then opened them again smiling. 

Karl did not come to see her any more, did not even 
ask to be allowed to do so. He could not play during 
all this self-torture ; Kallem had almost to threaten him 
before he could succeed in hearing anv of his own little 
pieces. At last he agreed, but with closed doors ; Ragni, 
however, heard them and thought them very pretty ; so 
did Kallem. Karl became quite happy again at this ; 
some of his self-assurance returned, and by degrees he 
became more agreeable. 

When once Kallem had got everything quiet and in 
order, his turn came. He fought manfully, but not al- 
ways with success, and Karl felt there were others be- 
sides himself who suffered, and others to be thought 
of too. A total change came over him. He now only 
lived for Kallem, full of care and thought for him. 
There was one mode of comforting him that never failed ; 
this he often had recourse to. It was to speak of Ragni 
and give an impressive description of her. He could 
paint beautiful pictures of all the peculiarities of her 
nature and person ; could artistically depict some action 
or word of hers with such adoring fervour, that it was 
balm to Kallem’s feelings ; he stood in need of the warm- 
ing rays of sympathy, for he was sinking with despair at 


MANHOOD. 


25i 


her increasing weakness. She could not even keep her 
head on the pillow ; it fell either to one side or the other, 
her eyes had an ethereal look, that seemed to spiritual- 
ize everything she gazed at ; her thin, silent lips were 
half open on account of the difficulty in her breathing ; 
as she lay there in that white room, between the white 
sheets and in that white gown, she was like some gasp- 
ing fledgling in a deserted, downy nest. Often when 
Kallem left the room, unable to restrain his grief, or from 
over-fatigue, it was Karl who persuaded him to rest, or 
found the right word to comfort, or sing endless praises 
of her. 

She could not talk much, indeed she felt no inclina- 
tion to do so ; but, when she did speak, she showed that 
she did not for a moment mistake her state — as consump- 
tive people generally do. One day she made a sign to 
Kallem to bend down closer to her. “ Kristen Larssen,” 
she whispered, “ there in that corner.” She smiled 
and added : “ I am not afraid of him any more now.” 

Another time she sent for Kallem only to say. “You 
must not feel anger toward anyone — for my sake.” She 
mentioned no name. Kallem pressed her hand ; her eyes 
flashed on him in rapturous joy. Sometimes she tried 
to smile, a thing no longer in her power. If she re- 
marked his tears, she would beckon to him, and put her 
fingers through his hair. Once while so doing he 
thanked her for everything, from their first meeting till 
this moment — she tried to pull his hair ; he was not to 
say those kind of things. 

Since then they scarcely spoke. They used the lan- 
guage of the eyes, with pressure of the hands. They 
were one in their grief, and had no thought left unut- 
tered. The gratitude they felt toward each other, the 
horror of an approaching separation, could not be ex- 
pressed in words. The hour was at hand. 

One evening they heard Sissel ring, and ring and ring. 
Sigrid rushed up, after her Kallem and Karl ; the latter 
remained outside ! He could hear that it was a fit of 
coughing, a terrible one again. He could not conceive 
that she still had so much strength ; each separate 
cough seemed to stab his breast ; it cut right through 
him and crushed him ; the cold sweat broke out on him 
when he heard her groans of pain; he could not bear to 


IX. GOD'S WAY. 


252 

listen, yet he dared not go away. Probably this was 
her last hour. He heard how Sigrid was weeping, 
and heard her say : “ Oh mistress ! mistress ! ” — and 

soon after: ‘‘She is dying!” He opened the door. 
The first thing he saw was blood, and he sank to the 
ground fainting. 

When he came to himself, he was lying on his bed ; 
Sigrid was sitting beside him crying. This was the first 
thing he remarked ; then suddenly he remembered 
everything and asked : “ Is she dead ? ” 

“ The doctor thinks it will soon be over.” 

Later on they were both allowed to go in. There she 
lay in her bed as if asleep, white as the sheets she lay 
on. Kallem was holding her hand ; as they entered 
they could not see his face, only the heaving of his 
shoulders, and hear his groans. Sissel stood at the 
other side. How wonderful it was to see the different 
degrees of grief. Although her strong, open features 
were full of sympathy, still they belonged to an out- 
sider; she seemed removed miles from Kallem’s silent 
despair. 

“ Is she dead ? ” whispered Sigrid. Sissel shook her 
head. And Ragni heard the question ; she looked up. 
She exerted her last strength to please them ; she tried — 
one can’t say to smile, for that was beyond her power 
now ; no, she wished to send them some last message. 
It lighted on Sigrid and Karl ; but she at once trans- 
ferred it to Kallem. A moment after she was dead. 

The others left the room ; Kallem still sat on. When 
he went down, he found no one. Karl had gone to his 
room, Sissel and Sigrid were sitting together in the lat- 
ter’s room. The kitchen was empty ; rooms empty, office 
empty. He had promised to read something she had 
written, yes, there it lay under Karl’s letter, and on it 
was written : *‘ By and by.” But he could not read it 
now, scarcely, indeed, as long as she still lay in the house. 
He went up to her book-shelf and gazed at it — the 
image of her own self. How often had he done this be- 
fore and smiled at the titles of the books. His eyes now 
fell on “Vildanden” by Henrik Ibsen. He was so tall, 
that, looking at it from above, it seemed to him there was 
a gap between the last leaves, so he took out the book. 
Just fancy, she had cut out the leaves where Hedvig’s 


MANHOOD. 


253 


sad story is about to close, where she shoots herself, and 
all that follows after that. Cut it right out ; it ought 
never to have happened. 

Nothing could have affected him more. He threw 
himself down on the sofa, and his sobs were like those 
of an ill-used child. Of course she was too refined and 
too timid ; the world we have to battle in is still too 
rough ; it must improve before such as she can live in 
it. She tried to take from it all she did not like ; but 
it was she who was taken. 


XI. 

Some days before the Sunday on which the struggle 
between Ole and Josephine about little Edward’s educa- 
tion had taken place, he had had a cough. That even- 
ing he was not quite well, so was kept indoors. 

In a few days he was out again and seemed very bright ; 
but one evening he was feverish and cross, with a dry 
cough, and so was kept in on the following days. Ac- 
customed as he was to be in the open air, he grew fret- 
ful and lost his appetite ; Josephine had many a fight 
with him and at last had to be severe. Then he began 
whimpering and wanted to go to his grandmother ; that 
was not allowed. But when his grandmother came to 
see him, lie was cross and peevish and went off to his 
father. But he came back again crying ; he had not 
been allowed to pull out the books from the lower shelves 
to build a house with. 

So he was put to bed feverish and cross ; complained 
that when he coughed it hurt him again in the right side 
of his chest ; during the night he was in a high fever, 
raving about Kristen Larssen ; that he was chasing all 
the boys and was going to carry them off to hell in a 
big bag. 

Josephine doctored him with compresses of turpen- 
tine, etc. ; but in the morning, when his father came up 
to see him, she begged that the doctor might be sent for. 

Kent was their family doctor ; he was not able to come 
before the evening, and found that the boy had pleurisy 
in the right side. All that Josephine had done was 


254 


IN. GOD'S WAY. 


quite correct ; he himself gave some orders respecting 
the necessary diet, and prescribed a mixture to be taken 
every other hour, also that if the fever increased so that 
his temperature rose higher than 39 degrees Centigrade, 
he was to be sent for. 

The next few days the boy seemed better, had a little 
appetite, coughed less ; his temperature in the evening 
was never higher than 38 degrees. God be praised ! 

Though the danger had only been very slight, both 
Tuft and Josephine felt it like a gentle pressure on the 
shoulder by an invisible hand ! In this way they were 
forced to draw nearer to each other, and they sought 
opportunities of talking together — certainly it was only 
about the child’s state ; but something both in voice 
and manner seemed pleading for pardon. 

His cough and the pain in the side decreased, and by 
degrees the boy grew visibly better ; but his appetite 
was not good ; he still had a little fever every day, and he 
did not gain strength. They bought him some new 
toys which he was delighted with the first day ; but the 
next day he was tired of them ; he listened to the fairy 
tales which his father and mother told him bv turns, 
without asking a single question ; he took no notice of 
his grandmother’s visits. Sometimes he would grow 
quite hot, and directly after felt quite cold. Kent was 
specially anxious because the child’s temperature rose 
every evening ; he began to give him quinine, then tried 
a blister ! Josephine would not leave his bedside and 
could not bear to hear of anyone taking her place ; 
neither did the child like anyone else to come near him. 

However there was an improvement, and the minister 
said one evening, when they were sitting together after 
having tried the child’s temperature : “ We shall escape 
with a good fright, Josephine.” She looked up at him ; 
he put out his hand ; she placed hers in it, but seemed 
half ashamed and took it away again. 

Dr. Kent had told them that Frau Kallem was very 
ill ; she could no longer leave her bedroom. Later on 
they heard from others that she suffered from decline ; 
they each separately asked Dr. Kent, who told them that 
it was galloping consumption. 

The minister did not mention it to Josephine ; but he 
said to Kent that this would doubtless be a blessing for 


MANHOOD. 


255 


his brother-in-law; possibly he would now be less bur- 
dened and able to work his way higher up. 

Josephine took it in quite a different way ; he could 
see it by her increased reserve ; only very rarely would 
she say a word or two to him. 

Some time afterwards, as she was lying on her bed 
one afternoon and wondering how it would affect her 
brother if Ragni were to die — suddenly she saw him. 
At first she thought nothing of it ; but it grew so exces- 
sively distinct. She saw him stretched at full length on 
a sofa in his office; she could see the whole room, cur- 
tains, bookshelves, books, desk, two tables, a large arm- 
chair, several half opened books, and sheets of paper 
covered with writing lying side by side. . . . She saw 
each sheet, each little detail, and he himself in a brown 
suit of clothes which she did not know. But she had 
never been in the office since it was furnished, and had 
never seen that furniture, nor the curtains and carpet ; 
but she had no doubt whatever that it was exactly as 
she saw it. At any other time this would have pro- 
duced a strange impression ; but now it was all swal- 
lowed up in the fact of her seeing him ; for he was so 
worn and wasted by grief ! The closer she looked at 
him, the worse it became. In such despair did he seem 
to be, that never before in her life, not even when their 
father died, had anything so moved her. She saw him 
tossing about sobbing bitterly ; she saw him holding his 
hands clasped before him. At last she saw nothing but 
him, the agony of his eyes from under the busy brows 
and spectacles, and all around him a great waste. 

She awoke bathed in cold perspiration and so exhaust- 
ed that she could hardly lift a finger. From that time 
she seemed weighed down by a vague fear : it deprived 
her of sleep. Had this to do with her brother, or her 
boy ? Little Edward lay there beside her, with laboured 
breathing and a cough that seemed to come from a dis- 
tance. His high forehead seemed empty, his eye rest- 
less ; his hands were no longer a small boy’s rough lit- 
tle fists, they were ethereal. At times she would hasten 
up to him, just to be sure he was there. Ah me ! it had 
come to that ; but merciful heavens— surely she was 
not going to lose him ? She seemed to recognize her 
brother’s suffering in this of her own, and each time 


256 


IN GOD’S WAY. 


felt as though they were drawn together in it. Her 
boy’s fate grew to be one with Ragni’s. In wakeful 
nights and during anxious days, both these destinies be- 
came so entangled and interwoven that to her mind 
they seemed to depend on one decision. 

Until now her religion had chiefly been a desire for 
freedom and an unflinching love of truth. In her great 
anxiety this became fatalism, unbending, mystical fate. 
Everything startled her ; she was always seeing signs 
and warnings. It seemed as though the boy could only 
lie on the side that was affected, otherwise it pained 
him so that he cried out . . . and each time she 

helped him, she could not make this out at all. She 
propped him up with air-cushions ; he replied by heart- 
rending entreaties to be left in peace. She no longer 
knew what was right or wrong. He would not even 
let her come near his legs ; he always wanted to have 
his knees bent and the one knee in a certain position 
over the other, . . . and she had to yield to these 

inexplicable fancies and let herself be set aside as su- 
perfluous and troublesome. Was this to show her that 
she must accustom herself to the idea that she was al- 
ways in the way ? 

In the end this would quite wear her out. Her fright 
from the last time she had moved him till the next 
time she would have to do it, would have been more 
than enough. But all the fancies and ideas she took 
into her head nearly drove her mad ; she spoke to 
no one about it. This new phase with the legs seemed 
to her so hopelessly mystical in its unreasonableness, 
that it made her afraid of the bov ; he was no longer 
her boy. Just bv chance later on she discovered a 
good deal of swelling round the ankles. She had al- 
ways heard that this was the beginning of the end ; she 
could scarcely drag herself down the stairs to the 
study, where the minister sat in a cloud of smoke. 
He saw her enter pale and terrified in her white night- 
dress. 

“My dear, what is the matter?” He listened to her, 
went up with her, and looked at the swelling, fell on his 
knees by the bedside, burying his face in his hands ; he 
was praying. Across his father’s head she heard the 
short hurried breathing of the little fellow, saw the shin- 


MANHOOD. 


257 


ing yet indifferent look he turned on him. She, too, 
would have prayed ; but at that moment the boy pushed 
his father away with his hand ; he could not bear the 
smell of tobacco. In that way he pushed her away 
from a possible prayer. 

Dr. Kent’s kind smile, his quiet, comforting assurance 
tli at the illness was the same as when he first had dis- 
covered the inflammation, that no worse symptom had 
set in, and that the swelling probably came from the 
strained position of the knees, relieved them so that 
Josephine cried for joy. He examined various matters, 
thereby confirming what he had already said. 

That night Josephine slept better than she had done 
for long, but still she felt weaker than ever before. 

Some time passed ; one evening the minister and Dr. 
Kent came up-stairs ; there was a certain solemnity about 
them. Josephine lay dressed on the bed, raised herself 
so as to get up, but both Kent and the minister begged 
her to lie down again. Dr. Kent told her that Frau 
Kallem had died the day before. Both the men looked 
at Josephine ; she closed her eyes. For a while there 
was complete silence. But seeing repeated twitchings 
in her face, Tuft hastened to say : 

“ Under these circumstances, Josephine, it can only 
be for Edward’s good. Of course he will feel it deeply 
now, but he will get over it. It will but benefit him.” 
Josephine turned away her head. Her eyes remained 
closed ; then the tears gushed forth. 

He felt at that moment that he had said something 
studied; indeed, that he had been guilty of brutality. 
He had changed much during their boy’s illness and 
that time of mutual anxiety. These words from former 
days — coming as they did just then in her smarting 
grief ; uttered by the bed of their own sick child — be- 
came his silent companions, full of independent life : 
“they were messages from God.” 

Until he let fall those words, Josephine had always 
prayed silently whenever her husband prayed ; since 
then she could do it no longer. She felt as she did in 
the beginning of their married life, when he had always 
expected her to join in all his overweening wishes and 
desires. In those days he had noticed nothing, but now 
he felt it at once. But just on that account, he felt he 

17 


258 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


must have support, must have it chiefly in prayers for 
his sick child. So he turned to his friends at the meet- 
ing-house ; he was sure of them. The painful events 
of those days ; his fear for his boy’s life ; his joyless, 
wounded love, all collected into one violent outburst : 
lie begged them to pray with him, he besought God’s 
mercy. Could he but be found worthy of higher com- 
munion with God, then the trial would not be too hard. 

He was radiant with the strength of his faith, as he 
went home and told about it. There were few like him 
when he was thus powerfully moved ; but it happened 
so seldom. 

Josephine’s state of health became alarming. The 
want of fresh air and regular sleep week after week, the 
loss of appetite and the constant anxiety, all began to 
tell upon this strong and healthy nature. Tuft spoke 
to Kent about it secretly ; but there was nothing to be 
done as Ions: as she would do nothing herself. 

Whilst he was carefully watching her every move- 
ment, he was obliged one day, against his will, to tell 
her that Ragni was not to be buried there, but at the 
nearest country church. Thereupon his brother-in-law 
made known his indignation and loathing in the strong- 
est possible way. Undoubtedly it was aimed at the com- 
munity at large, but mostly at them. 

Tuft never knew what Josephine felt about it ; it hurt 
him deeply. Once only she showed how impatient she 
had become. He had bent down over the boy, but came 
rather too near ; Edward began to whimper and push 
him away with his hand. 

“Why can’t you give up smoking ? ” she said, bitterly. 

He turned to her and answered, meekly : “ I will give 
it up.” When he got up afterwards he added, sorrow- 
fully : “ He is not well to-day.” 

“No,” she answered, quietly; his way of taking it 
made her feel ashamed. 

The doctor was sent for ; he was used to these sudden 
messages, so he took it quietly, and possessed that most 
excellent faculty of communicating his calm to others. 
The parents thought at first that the child ate with a 
better appetite, and took more notice of his grand- 
mother. She came four times a day, and the way in 
which she was received was always their barometer. 


MANHOOD . 


259 


The old grandmother had been up to the hospital and 
had seen Kallem and Karl Meek drive away from there 
with Ragni’s body. The coffin was white, and was on 
a sledge draped with black ; Sigrid sat in front, beside 
the coachman ; Kallem and Karl Meek followed after 
in a sledge with a seat for two. That was the whole 
procession. 

This account of Ragni’s last journey came unawares 
on them. And that Karl Meek was there, and alone! 
Did that mean that Kallem did not suspect him ? Or, 
which was more likely, that he had forgiven him ? 
Wishing perhaps to gloss it over and thus do her a last 
service ? Ah, if one could be as good as that ! 

The following night Josephine went down-stairs to 
her husband who was asleep. Her hair was let down ; 
she looked like one bewitched, or walking in her sleep, 
with her great hollow-eyed face surrounded by the long 
black hair, with eyes staring fixedly over the lamp she 
held in her hand. He sat up and would have got out 
of bed. She stayed him with her hand, and said, in a 
monotonous voice : 

“ I wish to speak to you, Ole ; I cannot sleep. My 
brother’s wife wants to take away our boy.” 

He felt all the blood rush to his heart. 

“ What do you say ? ” he whispered. 

“We have been too hard, we two. Now we shall have 
to pay for it ; and she will not be satisfied with less.” 

“ Dear Josephine, you are not yourself. Let us fetch 
help!” He started up. 

“Yes, l am going to get help. All who can pray 
must come now ! Do you hear, Ole ?” 

“ But, dearest ” 

“Or do you not think that you all are stronger than 
she is ; do you not think so? The other day you came 
home so happy from the prayer-meeting — oh, you know 
them, make them come, do make them come, Ole, do 
you hear ?” She began sobbing and crying : “ It is but 
a Christian’s duty to bring help here. They cannot look 
on and see her take him from us ! ” 

Her voice died away in a long wailing sound. He 
was sitting on the edge of the bed, and had put on his 
under-garments, but stopped now with his trousers in 
his hand. 


26 o 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


“ My dear, my dear, only believe that it is God who 
has the power and none other. Josephine, you are 
ill ! ” 

He was much distressed, and hastened to get on his 
clothes. 

“ Will you really go and fetch them ? ” she asked, 
much pleased, and put down the lamp. “Thank you, l 
knew you would. I assure you solemnly, Ole, that it is 
urgent ! ” 

He did make haste, but said : 

“You know, Josephine, we must be careful when we 
pray for non-spiritual things.” 

This made her uneasy ; she stretched out her hands 
to him. Everything she had on was loose and open, 
the sleeves slipped from her shoulders — she had grown 
so fearfully thin — a great fear came over him. Her 
wild countenance, delirious words, emaciated form. . . . 

“God bless you, Josephine, do not exert yourself too 
much in prayer, you might break down completely, you 
have grown so weak !” 

“Do you not believe, then, Ole?” flashed from her 
like lightning. 

“Yes, yes ! But suppose God’s will be not our will, 
dear child?” There arose in him the painful recollec- 
tion of Andersen’s death-bed scene. “You would pray 
for a miracle ! ” 

“ Yes, yes ! of course ! Certainly ! What else should 
we pray for ?” 

“ We pray to be granted communion with God, Jo- 
sephine ; at all events that is what I do. For then all 
is well, my soul is strengthened, and often I am in such 
sore need of it.” 

“ It is written, ‘ Soften the heart of the Lord.’ Is that 
not right ? Soften the heart of God ? Speak, Ole. Soft- 
en the heart of God ? Answer me ! ” 

He was kneeling down in front of the stove with a 
piece of firewood in one hand and a knife in the other, 
he would have lighted the fire ; she was so thinly clad ; 
but he stopped now and looked up at her sorrowfully. 
“ I dare not pray for a miracle, Josephine ; I am not 
worthy.” As he was saying this his agitation increased, 
and he was so overcome that he had to put down what 
he had in his hands and cover his face. But when he 


MANHOOD. 


261 


looked up again he started to his feet ; if she had had 
her arms full of the most costly china and had let it fall 
so that it was shivered to a thousand pieces . . . 

she could not possibly have looked different, more para- 
lysed, more horror-struck. Her hands were outstretched 
as though over what she had let fall, her eyes were fast- 
ened on him, her senses gone ; it seemed as though the 
next instant she must fall. Not so however ; for when 
he seized hold of her, she woke up, collected her thoughts 
and without further warning said quickly : 

“Then we must send for my brother ! He only can 
make her leave our boy alone.” The words proceeding 
from that strange train of thought were like a sugges- 
tion to him. A thousand times he had thought the 
same, Colonel Baier’s case had called forth the desire, 
and many had advised him to it ; but until now he had 
been ashamed. 

A few minutes later, he was on his way to Dr. Kent, 
who must be consulted first. 

It was a sharp, clear night. By day the roads were 
in a state of thaw, but frozen again at night, so he had 
to be careful ; it was not easy, pursued as he was by 
his thoughts. What became of the Bible’s dogmas of 
the creation, the deluge, and all the rest — what was it 
all worth, when death was at the door ? What then was 
number one, what number twenty ? 

None would wake up at Kent’s house ; he rang and 
rang without hearing any sound himself ; the bell must 
have been removed. Then he began to knock, it 
sounded hollow and hard, and to him it seemed as though 
death were knocking ; it was so, too. At last a servant 
appeared rather grumbling, but as it was the minister 
she went to rouse the doctor. Patient Dr. Kent came 
down, brought him into his room and listened to him. 
He would with pleasure go to Kallem ; had he thought 
they would have allowed it, he would have done it long 
since. 

When Tuft got back Josephine was up-stairs with the 
child ; she misunderstood him, she thought her brother 
was coming at once, and as he had not appeared by 
seven o’clock, by eight, by nine, she was afraid he would 
not come and became much agitated ; her husband was 
obliged to go again to fetch her brother and the doctor. 


262 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


Kent was not to be found at once ; but sent to say that 
Kallem and he would come at eleven o’clock precisely. 
They came, too, at that hour ; but the minister had been 
called away, so there was no one to receive them. Kal- 
lem had not put his foot inside their door since the day 
he had arrived in the town. Since the preceding night 
Josephine had not had her brother out of her thoughts, 
which is always the case when one longs for anyone ; 
but when at last Kent and he came up the thickly-car- 
peted stairs she was not thinking of him ; she stood 
bending over the boy giving him a drink ; when their 
knock came at the door she started up and could not 
utter a sound. The door opened nevertheless. Kent let 
Kallem go in first. 

He was met by a slight scream. She nearly dropped 
what she was holding; for what did he look like! It 
was death himself who came, bony and mowing all 
around with sharp scythe. It was not to help her, but 
to take the boy from her ; she felt it directly. 

Shortly and mercilessly he looked at her, without a 
spark of compassion, although she too was worn with 
grief. As he advanced further in he looked at the boy, 
and fro'm that moment she ceased to exist for him, she 
slipped on one side. Kent went up and greeted her 
kindly, then went back to Kallem. And now the usual 
thing happened — the same that had happened to Kallem 
himself when he was together with Dr. Meek — namely, 
Dr. Kent accepted all Kallem’s impressions, the child’s 
appearance seemed new to him and frightened him con- 
siderably. All that he had formerly put away from 
him, showed itself of its own accord — “ Empyeme ? ” 
he whispered in French to Kallem who did not answer, 
but drew nearer, felt the boy’s faint, weak pulse, tapped 
him lightly here and there, listened to the quick short 
breathing, looked at the temperature list and at what he 
had last coughed up. Then followed a short consulta- 
tion between the doctors; Josephine heard every scrap 
of it, although she stood a little way from them, on the 
other side of the bed — the child’s bed now stood where 
his father’s used to stand ; but she did not understand 
the technical terms, therefore could not seize the mean, 
ing. She felt that some evil was hanging over her ; her 
hands were pressed together on her bosom while her 


MANHOOD . 


263 


eyes wandered from one to the other. At last Kent ap- 
proached a few steps ; lie wished to ask if they might 
be allowed to insert the point of a syringe, fine as a 
needle, in the cavity of the chest. 

“ Is it an operation ? ” she whispered as she sought 
support. 

“ We shall be able to tell then,” he answered, equally 
softly. She sank down on a chair. Her brother did 
not wait for her answer, but pulled out his instrument 
case and took out of it something shiny, long and thin, 
bending down with it over the boy. She saw nothing 
more ; nor could she think of anything either — she only 
tried not to give way; she heard the boy whimper and 
call repeatedly “ Mother ” in a frightened voice ; she had 
not the strength to rise up, dared not move. She heard 
Kent say : “ Now it is over, my boy but could not 

see what was over. 

Little Edward whimpered and cried, and insisted on 
having his mother up to his bed. So she tried once or 
twice, but it was quite impossible ; her brother acted 
like a weight on her, although he never even looked her 
way. 

The door opened and shut ; he had gone, and she 
breathed more freely. Kent went up to her at once, 
kind and sympathetic. 

“ There must be an operation,” he whispered. 

“ What for ? ” She knew it would be of no use ; she 
had seen it written in her brother’s face. 

“ Because everything must be tried,” answered Kent. 

With the most miserable little voice, the boy begged 
his mother to come to him. 

“ I am coming.” She knelt down beside him and be- 
gan to cry. 

“They hurt me,” the boy said, complaining. 

Ah, if she could have answered : “It was to make 
you well that you may get out again.” But even Kent 
dared not say that. She struggled to find courage to 
forbid the operation, but she dared not, she was afraid 
of her brother. Kent stood there waiting ; she became 
conscious of that at last, and looked despairingly at him. 
He stooped down to her. 

“Your brother generally sends some of the hospital peo- 
ple to disinfect and arrange everything,” he said, gently. 


264 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


“ Is it to be to-day ? ” whispered she, weeping bitterly. 

“ No; but the cleaning and airing must be begun to- 
day. The adjoining rooms must be used, too.” She 
had laid her head down again beside the boy, she made 
no answer ; then she heard him go. 

When the minister came home he rushed up at once 
to the sick room and was not a little surprised to find 
his mother there and — Sissel Aune ! The latter was 
keeping watch, the boy was cross, and did not want 
anyone near him but his mother ; not even his father, 
for he could still smell tobacco about him, although he 
had given up smoking. Tuft found Josephine lying cn 
his sofa in the study, overcome with despair, and talk- 
ing quite incoherently ; “ Doomed to death ! ” she 

would answer to nearly all his questions. 

One of the deaconesses came over in the afternoon 
and assumed the management of affairs; she brought 
strange servants with her ; their home seemed broken 
up, and the scouring and cleaning sounded like the 
planing of a coffin. Their own servants all sorrowful, 
poor old grandmother in tears ; and when they heard 
the noise caused by moving the boy’s bed into another 
room, they sat trembling hand in hand. 

Fancy,, now, if anyone were to say: “ It is a good 
thing for the parents, that their boy is dying. Of 
course they can’t think so now, but they will come to 
see it in that light ; ’’fancy if anyone were brutal enough 
to say such a thing to them ? Tuft felt bound to speak 
to Josephine about it, and confessed that these words 
would have wounded him deeply. She pressed his 
hand in silence. 

When the evening came and all was quiet, they were 
both up-stairs with the boy and they fancied he already 
bore the mark of death ! He fell asleep holding his 
mother’s hand, and then Tuft gently led her away. She 
consented to be led now ; an extra bed had been put 
up in the spare room, it was part of all the moving and 
arranging that had gone on. 

The next day from early morning the parents were in 
with the little boy. As soon as they left, he was to 
be moved back to his old room where all was ready for 
the operation. 

At ten o’clock the doctors came. Josephine was ly- 


MANHOOD. 


265 


ing on the sofa in the study. She stopped her ears as 
soon as she heard them ; the carpets were taken up so 
that the slightest creak of a boot was heard. She would 
not be comforted, nor let herself be reasoned with, and 
fell into that half-unconscious state she had before been 
in ; she wanted to go up to the boy, he might die 011 
their hands. 

The minister was anxious to speak to the doctors ; 
but she hung round him, she would go, too ; so he 
could not leave. If anyone just moved a foot upstairs, 
she knew who it was, and if the doctors moved at the 
same time, there must be something going on, she 
doubled herself up and sat crouching there with her 
hands to her ears. She would not let herself be taken 
to another room, she would stay there and be tortured ; 
at times she went up to Tuft seeking a haven, she had 
worn herself out, was tired to death. “ Help me ! ” she 
whispered, assuring him that her reason and her life 
were at stake, and that she had always known that 
the time would come when she would be thus miser- 
able. 

Tuft persuaded her to lie down with wet bandages on 
her forehead, he prayed aloud, and his love for her was 
so powerful that it quieted her. “ Thank you, Ole, 
thank you ! ” she grew calmer. 

All at once. “He is screaming !” she exclaimed; 
and, raising herself, would have got up. The minister 
assured her he heard nothing ; but at the same instant 
they both heard it. “Yes, yes,” she said, and tried to 
go. Tuft put both his arms round her, praying for her 
and blessing her. Again she calmed down. And now 
all was silent. 

Upstairs all was going on rapidly. Kallem took the 
responsibility of chloroforming the boy, and the screams 
the parents had heard were on account of the flannel 
bag which Kent held over his face ; the boy pushed it 
away ; he was suffocating. “ Mother, mother ! ” he 
cried ; but he soon became unconscious. The old grand- 
mother in a clean cotton gown sat by the pillow on the 
other side and held his hand ; the old woman was trem- 
bling ; but there she sat and intended to sit until all was 
over. No one had asked her to do it ; she had herself 
asked God. But as soon as the boy was unconscious, 


266 


I/V GOD'S WAY. 


Kallem said to her quite politely that now she would 
have to go. Slowly and silently she left the room. 

Then he began. An incision, eight centimetres in 
length, was made between the ribs in the right side. 
He inserted blunt instruments into the aperture, got 
hold of the end of the rib-bone and sawed off a small 
piece ; the matter streamed out of the wound. 

Here they were all startled by a wild shriek behind 
them. Quick as lightning Josephine had opened the 
door and seen these white operating coats, and Kallem, 
his hands covered with blood, rummaging in her child’s 
chest — down she fell onto the floor. 

“Was the door not locked ?” asked Kallem. Sissel 
came running from the inner room, the minister from 
outside, they carried her out between them. 

“Mind the temperature,” was whispered over to the 
deaconess ; “ And lock the door ! ” 

“ But Sissel ? ” 

“ She must stay away ! ” 

Presently they heard her at the door, but took no no- 
tice. A tube was inserted in the cavity of the chest 
which was well syringed, and a tow bandage carefully 
put on the side. The tube w T as to be left there for sev- 
eral days and the temperature of the room day and 
night was to be kept at 15 °. Kallem soon retired to the 
next room with his instruments and was out of the house 
before anyone, except those present at the operation, 
knew that he had finished. 

The old grandmother, poor thing, had just come up 
again to listen at the door, when Sissel, who was back 
in the room, came out, carrying something under her 
apron. In passing she told her that it was all over. So 
the old woman ventured in ; but on seeing the child ly- 
ing there pale and quiet, she lost all command over 
herself, went out again directly, and it was only with the 
greatest difficulty that she managed to reach her own 
house. 

In ordinary life it was impossible to make any sort of 
impression on this specimen of fossilization from the 
border of the sea, crushed flat by her pietistical views and 
walled at the north side of the house. The only one 
she seemed to take any interest in was the boy. " Her 
whole house was his playroom ; he was allowed to drag 


MANHOOD. 


267 


in there almost anything he had a fancy to, she put it 
away again and liked nothing better than tidying up 
after he had been there. Now, one would think that he 
would have been devoted to her on that account, but 
strange to say, from the moment he fell ill, he would 
hardly look at his grandmother. In spite of all its se- 
verity, his mother’s blunt manner had taken his fancy ; 
he had been greatly worried by his grandmother’s devo- 
tion, interspersed as it was with scoldings and threats, 
full of prayers which he had to learn by heart, and of 
Bible stories which he never understood. Now that he 
was so ill and weak, she was not allowed to talk to him. 
But it was hard on the old grandmother. Her son neg- 
lected her too, now that Josephine was more accessible. 
Had it not been for the coming of the deaconess, the 
operation might have taken place without the old wom- 
an’s having heard anything of it. 

A few hours later, she crept upstairs again, listened 
outside, could hear nothing, thought all was over and 
ventured to look in. Sissel sat there nodding ; but 
looked up at once. 

“ Is he alive ? ” asked the old woman. 

‘‘Yes,” answered Sissel in a voice barely audible, but 
her hope of him was not much greater either. The old 
grandmother could not bear more, she turned away. A 
couple of hours after she came again, and he was still 
alive. This time she had brought her spectacles with her 
and an old much-loved book ; she meant to sit there till 
the end. Sissel could have a sleep. So she was told 
what there was to do, and Sissel lay down on Josephine’s 
bed. 

It was six o’clock in the evening before the minister 
put his head into the room — it was only now that he dared 
leave Josephine for a moment. He saw his mother sit- 
ting there with her spectacles and her old book of ser- 
mons, he drew nearer searching her face like a book ; 
in it he read : “he lives !” She nodded as Sissel had 
done before and conveying the same meaning. He 
shuddered as he looked at the boy’s deathly pale, worn- 
out face, and went away. 

The house was quite quiet. In the kitchen which 
lay some way off, they all spoke softly, the doors 
were well oiled and the carpets laid down in the pas- 


268 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


sages. The minister came in on tiptoe every hour and 
received always the same answer; there was still life. 
Everybody came and went noiselessly as though spirits 
were moving about. In the spare room where Jose- 
phine lay, signs took the place of words. 

The night was if possible more silent ; grandmother 
had gone away, but Sissel was there ; fire was burning 
in the kitchen and a watch was kept in case there should 
be anything to fetch ; the minister was up and awake 
and went about backwards and forwards. But toward 
three o’clock both he and the watch fell asleep. When 
grandmother came in at four o’clock, Sissel was asleep 
too ; she sat down in her seat ; there was not a sound of 
any kind till near seven o’clock. Grandmother looked 
after the stove and attended to the medicine — surely lit- 
tle Edward breathed more easily, or was she deceiving 
herself ? 

A little before seven the door was opened slowly. 
She expected to see her son ; but it was Josephine who 
came. Her large face under the disordered hair, and 
her wild eyes looked worse than ever in the dim light, 
she alarmed the old woman, who for long had been 
afraid for her mind. But Josephine stood still by the 
door, she heard Sissel’s steady breathing but not the 
boy’s ; she dared not go further in. The old grand- 
mother saw this and nodded encouragingly. A few 
steps forward and the mother saw her boy — fearfully 
pale and without a sign of life. But grandmother 
nodded again, so she ventured further forward. The 
curtains were still drawn, so she did not see well ; but 
then she thought he breathed. She knelt down . . . 

was he breathing easier, or . . ? She was so sure in 

her belief that he was doomed to death, that she could 
not hear what she really did hear. She listened in the 
greatest anxiety, wondering, considering, holding her 
own breath the while, and only when she was quite 
sure that his breathing was easier, did she herself un- 
consciously breathe strongly and rapidly full in the boy’s 
face. The warm whiff awoke him, he opened his eyes 
and looked at his mother, trying to collect his thoughts. 
Yes, it was mother who had come back again. His 
eyes grew more lively, and brighter than she had seen 
them for weeks past, they gazed at her until her own 


MANHOOD. 


269 


filled with tears. Not a word did he say, nor moved a 
limb from fear of the old pain ; and to her it seemed as 
though his spirit would fly away if he moved or if she 
touched him or uttered a sound. Indeed she thought 
her breathing was too loud, so she smothered it, and 
neither moved her hands nor turned her head ; in this 
immovable stillness it was as though they were under 
the shadow of gathering wings. The hour was like the 
one in which she had given birth to him, when she 
heard the first gurgling sound of his living voice. And 
now life was beginning a second time with trembling* 
breath. His eyes were as light in the snow. She could 
never weary of their fresh brightness, they floated to- 
gether, his and hers, she wished it would never end. 

But the boy was overcome by the power of her eyes 
and gave himself up to the safe feeling of her presence, 
so he shut his eyes again, opened them once or twice 
just to try . . . yes, she was there, and so fell 

asleep. 

Soon after she was down in the study. Outside was 
bright day ; in it should come ! She drew up the blinds, 
the daylight filled the high room with the life of life, 
filled her own soul to its innermost recesses — she pushed 
open the door to the spare room and placed herself in 
the doorway. 

Tuft lay there broad and strong with outstretched 
arms, a bushy head of hair, his high forehead still shin- 
ing with yesterday’s perspiration, and a smile about his 
mouth. The light half wakened him. “Ole!” she 
said, he opened his eyes wide, but shut them again ; he 
strove to settle in his memory what lie had just had a 
glimpse of, and at the same instant from out of all this 
light came the words of Josephine’s voice : “ He 

lives !” 

Thus, on Sunday, a man spoke from the church pul- 
pit, taking his text from his own experiences. 

He spoke of what is highest and greatest for us all. 

One man forgets it in the midst of his hard struggles, 
a second because of his zeal, a third on account of stub- 
bornness, a fourth in his own wisdom, a fifth from sheer 
force of habit, and we have all more or less been wrongly 
taught on the subject. “For were I now to ask those 


270 


IN GOD'S W AY. 


who are listening to me, just because I ask in this place, 
from this pulpit, you would all unthinkingly ’answer : 
‘ Faith is greatest ! ’ Nay, but in truth it is not. Watch 
by thy child lying gasping for breath and on the brink of 
death ; or see thy wife slipping gradually after the child 
away to that outermost edge, worn out by fear and 
many night-watches, then love will teach thee this, that 
life is first. And from this day, never again will I first 
seek God or God’s will in any form of speech, in any 
sacrament, or in any book or at any place, as though He 
were there present ; no, rather let me seek His presence 
in life — in life won back from the depths of the fear of 
death, in the victory of light, in the beauty of devotion, 
in the community of the living. God’s most important 
words to us are those of life ; our truest worship of him 
is love for all living things. However much it be 
a matter of course, this doctrine was what I needed more 
than anyone. That it is wdiich I have put from me in 
different ways and from various reasons — and oftenest 
just latterly. But never again shall either w 7 ords or 
signs be for me the most important ; but, contrariwise, 
the everlasting revelation of life. Never again will I 
let myself be immured in any doctrine ; but will let my 
will be set free by the warmth of life. Never again will 
I judge mankind by the codes of an old world justice, if 
the justice of our day cannot use the language of love. 
Before God, never ! And this because I believe in Him. 
the God of life, and His incessant revelation in life.” 


XII. 

That afternoon Tuft received a most unusual visit. 
There was a gentle knock at the door, and at the first 
“Come in” no one ' appeared. The second time the 
door was openech cautiously by Soren Pedersen, and 
after him by slow degrees came Aase, very shy. 

Their business was nothing less than to thank the 
minister for his sermon that day ! “ For nobody can 

live without God ! at all events not ignorant people ; 
it doestn’t do ; no, it doesn’t do at all. And so we come 


MANHOOD. 


271 


like the prodigal son — Aase I suppose must be the prod- 
igal daughter . . . (come forward do — well, just 

as you please!) and we wish that you will pray for 
God’s mercy for us both.” And their request was 
granted with all the earnest fervour that Tuft could put 
into a prayer. Soren said they were going direct to 
Dr. Kallem. “He is certainly the best man in the 
world, at any rate in the town. But he is mistaken in 
these matters. For there exists both God and spirits, 
and we will go and tell him so.” 

Tuft had himself fixed to go to Kallem that same 
afternoon. He was grateful to him, and he longed to 
acknowledge that had it not been for their cruel wrong- 
ing of Ragni, not even the events of the past days 
would have sufficed to show him the treasures of life. 
He wished particularly to justify Josephine by taking 
her faults on his shoulders. Busy with his heavy load 
of dogmas, like a post-horse laden with bags full of let- 
ters, she had always been obliged to keep him company, 
whether she would or no ; and this injustice had made 
her hard and suspicious. 

As he set out on his way an hour or so later, all their 
childhood was vivid before him. He wanted then to be 
a missionary ; perhaps now he might be one in earnest ! 
To propound a doctrine of evolution or progress in re- 
ligion was w r orthy of a mission, and he thought of un- 
dertaking it. The God of dogmas and his priests of 
olden days, must be vanquished and overcome like the 
idols and miracle-makers of the heathens. What though 
he had dreamed of becoming a bishop, strong in his 
theological powers, well, there was a dangerous bishop- 
ric — vacant for easily explained reasons — here in Nor- 
way. 

Sigrid was standing on the steps of the upper en- 
trance as Pastor Tuft came across the yard with long 
strides. She was dressed in black with a black silk 
kerchief over her fair hair. 

“ The doctor is not at home,” she said in her quiet 
way. He turned round and went toward the hospital 
with the same decision. There stood Andersen’s wid- 
ow, also dressed in black and in a cap with black rib- 
bons. 

“Are you still in mourning for your husband?” 


272 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


“No, this time it is for Frau Kallem.” ' 

“ Is Kallem here ? ” 

“No, he went home a little while ago.” 

That’s a mistake on your part, thought Tuft, and 
turned his steps in the direction of the woods ; he liked 
having a good long walk. 

There were many people out walking ; they all greet- 
ed him with joyful sympathy ; it was not to be mistaken. 
Widow Andersen’s stern face had cast a shadow over 
him ; but it vanished before the kind looks of everyone 
else. Again the same impetuous courage came over 
him as it had recently done — the courage peculiar to 
all newly-converted people. Just by the hospital he 
met Soren Pedersen and his wife who were coming 
away from Kallem ; they too were going for a walk 
this bright Sunday evening so full of messages of 
spring. 

“ Was he at home ?” asked Tuft. 

“Yes, your reverence,” replied Pedersen, highly de- 
lighted. * 

“Well, what did the doctor say?” 

“ I was much pleased with what he said, your rever- 
ence. There are two kinds of persons, said he ; the 
one kind believe only what they know ; the other 
kind do likewise ; but that which they know cannot be 
proved — at least only to themselves.” 

“ He is right,” and Tuft laughed as he hurried away. 
But the moment he was alone, the sixteenth chapter of 
St. Mark, sixteenth verse, was upon him ; it lay in 
ambush for him, like a spy from his “ orthodox ” 
period. “He that believetli not shall be damned.” God 
has no respect for “ two kinds of persons.” Tuft began 
eagerly to defend : “ The sixteenth chapter, from the 

ninth verse upwards, is a later addition which the old- 
est manuscripts do not recognize. If this passage be 
not genuine, then no such dreadful passage can be found 
in any of the other three gospels. The fourth, in which 
it occurs, has thereby damned itself. No, life is every- 
thing, and faith is the wondrous road to the explanation 
of life, that is to say, to God. By this means we shall 
attain the highest communion with Him, if not here, 
then in the next world. Faith is not for judging, but for 
guidance. To condemn people for their faith’s sake 


MANHOOD. 


273 


might have been thought right in olden times; in our 
day it shocks us. God reveals Himself in our under- 
standing in a higher light than that.” Again he has- 
tened back into the yard. 

But again Sigrid catne out on the steps. “ The doctor 
is not at home.” Her eyes avoided his ; but she re- 
mained standing there immovable, her face framed in 
by the kerchief. The house at her back seemed like a 
secret, select community, full of mutual steadfastness, 
something he was shut out from. 

Now he understood. 

The price of entering there was greater than he had 
thought. He went home humbled, and did not men- 
tion it to Josephine. 

This repulsion led to further claims on him : it urged 
him on along the road that would unite brother and sis- 
ter together, which was the condition laid down for all 
else. He acknowledged openly that he had been jeal- 
ous of his brother-in-law. This episode in his private 
life was the cause of much of the narrow-mindedness of 
his preaching. 

He received help from outside. At first there were 
wondering questions, a reserved manner, which wound- 
ed him, and at times made him doubtful ; but soon it 
came to an open fight with his nearest followers, and 
that urged him on. His old friend, the former porter, 
seemed to have longed for an opportunity of freeing 
himself from a debt of gratitude that weighed on him ; 
he made a great to do and called in auxiliary troops 
all the way from the capital. Teachers in seminaries, 
schoolmasters, scientific travellers, and a few clergymen 
attacked Pastor Tuft at the meeting-house with all sorts 
of theological weapons. First and foremost he learnt 
to speak distinctly, for the greater part of what they at- 
tacked him for was nothing but a misunderstanding ; 
but he had occasion for capabilities and knowledge 
which he had not needed before. During this first 
month Josephine felt merely tired and indifferent — she 
had grown weaker than she could understand ; but 
after that she began following in the steps of the peas- 
ant lad, who in days gone by had captivated her heart 
by his bright faith ; would he come back Jo her ? 

An incident which she concealed from her husband 
18 


2 7 4 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


had kept her back and prevented her. gaining strength, 
therefore she was so languid. She too had quietly been 
over to her brother’s the first time she was able to go 
out ; she, too, had been met by Sigrid on the steps telling 
her that he was not at home; — but she had seen him 
standing on the veranda as she came up. With great 
difficulty she reached home again. 

She had felt the deepest pity for him and was ready to 
make all manner of allowances ; but his inexorableness 
aroused her opposition. Josephine had not the slightest 
idea that she herself had been jealous of Ragni, there- 
fore she could not know that it affected her manner. 
She considered herself to have been at fault in being 
intolerant toward one who was guilty. As Sissel Aune 
sat upstairs beside the boy, and told her all about Ragni, 
how she had been lovable to the very last, she felt how 
unnatural it was to have overlooked Ragni’s goodness of 
heart and Kallem’s love for her. But beyond this in- 
tolerance she did not consider herself to blame. 

The disappointment was great, and the consequences 
might have been serious if it had not been that she was 
so much taken up just then with her husband’s strug- 
gles. A person of confused ideas, who has chiefly lived 
a defiant life, can only be freed when some great event 
happens. And such an event it was, the day that Ole 
said to her : 

“ On this, Josephine, we must stake both the living 
and our fortune.” 

Three months had gone by when she, revived by the 
fight, thought herself strong enough to take up the case 
with her brother. She wrote to him and said that 
whatever they might have done wrong— they would 
wish to hear it right out ; they ought to be worthy to 
be accused. Their gratitude to him was great, as they 
repented of their former intolerance, and wished to 
make every possible amends to that spirit of charity and 
justice which they had misjudged. 

It was an excellent letter ; her husband said so too. 

But the days went and there came no answer. It 
was a mercy that just at that time Tuft was fighting 
some of his hardest battles. At the meeting-house, and 
afterwards in*church, he had made use of the words Jo- 
sephine had concluded her letter with. 


MANHOOD. 


2 7S 


“Justice and charity,” without distinction of faith (as 
in the story of the good Samaritan), is the essence of 
Christianity. Therefore must everything be meted out 
with this measure, and first and foremost the doctrine 
itself, so that the smallest particle weighed and found 
wanting fell, like the theology of distant and cruel 
times, before the revelation of justice in our day. 

That very same day he was summoned on this account 
to a debate ; three meetings were held in the course of 
the week, all of them overcrowded. The principal 
speaker against him was a clergyman and theological 
publisher from the metropolis. The doctrine of hell 
was almost the sole subject, and Tuft maintained that 
what St. Paul said about it was widely different from 
what was in the Book of Revelations. 

According to St. Paul, life here and in the next world 
was a state of progression, which ended by God becom- 
ing “ all in all.” This doctrine was up to the standard 
of both justice and charity. And a great impression was 
made, as his resonant voice, in its rapid west-country 
tones, shouted out across the tightly packed assembly, 
asking whether they thought there would ever be an end 
of wars and persecutions as long as the doctrine of hell, 
with all its cruel revenge and brutality was taught in all 
the schools and churches as the justice and charity of 
God. His opponents were “thoroughly in the style 
of the doctrine of hell,” for they did all they could to 
condemn and stigmatize him as heretical. 

However, there was but one opinion amongst the au- 
ditors — that for clearness of language and powers of 
persuasion Tuft was vastly superior to the others. 

Dr. Kallem was present at the last meeting. He saw 
Josephine sitting there with flaming eyes, and the next 
day, toward evening, his answer came. 

She was walking up and down before the house, watch- 
ing her boy at play with the garden-hose, when the let- - 
ter was given her. She recognized the writing directly, 
but trembled so that she could not open it. She was 
horrified to see how weak she still was ; would she never 
get back the strength of her youth ? 

Then she went up to her room and locked herself in. 

It was a long letter ; she turned it over and sat down to 
consider whether she would let Tuft read it first. But 


276 


IiV GOD'S WAY. 


possibly there might be something about him which he 
was not to see. 

She opened the letter. 

Not a word from her brother, not a single word to 
her. The first that she saw was written in a strange 
hand, the next too, and the following after that, the 
whole thing, but in two different handwritings. There 
were some sheets of paper fastened together, some let- 
ters, a few loose scraps — not a word from Edward. 

What did it signify ? Involuntarily Josephine selected 
the least of all the papers, a little scrap of three lines : 

“They destroyed my good name and I knew it not. 
For I knew not that I had it before it was destroyed.” 

On another scrap there w*ere these words faintly 
written : 

“ Forgive them ; they know not what they do ! ” 

This delicate, flowing handwriting was of course Rag- 
ni’s. Josephine began to tremble without knowing why. 

Then there was a letter, written in another hand, the 
first words of which w T ere in red ink. No signature. 
But as she read that Kallem w T as not to see it^ she 
guessed it was a love-letter from Karl Meek, which Kal- 
lem must have found afterwards. What had Josephine 
to do with that ? 

Hastily she read the first words, but was surprised at 
his calling her “you,” and that he spoke of a sorrow 
which he would have borne alone, but which now had 
fallen upon her too, a slander ? Had she been slan- 

dered ? 

All through the most respectful terms. When was it 
written ? There was no date given ; but the writer of 
the letter w T as abroad ; so it was after their life together 
here. The letter was one long wail of despair, a grief so 
genuine, never had she read of anything greater. 

Josephine's hand shook so that she W’as obliged to put 
the letter down on the table. 

She read how Karl through all this cruel slander 
could not think of anyone or anything else ; she read 
how he in that way had come to love Ragni. Josephine 
saw this love, engendered by sorrow, gratitude, devo- 
tion, find vent in pure and touching words. 

Ragni innocent? Good God, was she innocent? 
Then all those harrowing scenes between her and Ed- 
ward> as Death separated them inch by inch from one 


MANHOOD. 


*77 


another (Sissel Anne had so often described them to 
her), they must indeed have been hard to bear ! Yes, 
now she understood why he had driven away that day 
with her body, and had Karl Meek by his side ; only 
she could not understand how he had survived it. 

There was a knock at the door ; she started in her 
seat. But it was only the servant girl who came to ask 
her to go down to supper. She could not answer, again 
there was a knock. “No, no ! ” she managed to artic- 
ulate as she writhed in sorrow and shame. She must 
go to her brother, she would go to him, if she went 
there on her knees. 

But here were more papers, and she felt as though 
her brother was standing over her commending her to 
read them. She trembled and read : 

“Now that I am about to copy what I have written 
down after many trials and failures about my childhood 
and my first marriage, I feel myself to be so tired — so 
done up. I had intended to write a few words as be- 
ginning, and looked forward to it. Now it is too late 
for that. Now I can only just tell to you, ‘ the white 
pasha’ of my life, how it has fared with me. I have 
told it briefly for it was torture to me ; and I have only 
told it so that you may defend my cause should anyone 
still think it worth while to speak evil of me after I am 
gone. Dear friend, I do not murmur. I have lived as 
purely and nobly as I could live ; it has only been too, 
too short. Know, that I had thrown myself away from 
sheer horror of something still worse — and then you 
came and took me out of the deep waters and giving 
ms in keeping of good people I found peace and all 
good things — till you could come again and bear me 
away to yourself. To think that I might share all in 
your home and yourself too without deserving it ; for I 
felt that often ; but I was happy all the same. 

“ I did not suffice for you here, I know it ; but now 
that the end is near, it does not seem to matter. You 
would have borne with me as long as it lasted, I feel so 
sure of that.” 

“ My friend, were I now to tell you all I feel of grati- 
tude and admiration for you, you would not understand 
it ; it has seemed so natural to you that all the happiness 
of your life came from me. And that was what was 
most beautiful in mine too, 


2 7 S 


IN GOD'S IV A V. 


“ But you will not read this until the day when I no 
longer a"m sitting in this chair, and nothing can im- 
print my memory so vividly on you and make it live on 
in you, as one long, everlasting : 

“Thanks.” 

And this was the marriage they had considered not 
worthy of the name ! What was Josephine’s compared 
to this ! 

She slipped from the chair down upon her knees. 
She wept and sobbed — and forced herself to silence 
that no one might discover her crouching there in the 
shame of. her crime. She folded her hands on Ragni’s 
letter, and laid her head down on them, whispering : 
“ Forgive me, forgive me ! ” though she knew that none 
could hear her, and that none, none could forgive her. 

In a moment, 'she understood that Ragni had been pure 
in her first marriage ; and that there too she had been 
slandered ! The papers telling how this marriage had 
been arranged — she did not need to read them, she could 
not. With clammy hands she collected all the papers 
together, Ole must read them. Now he must help her ; 
her life was at stake. She had committed murder, the 
murder of an innocent person. Not by her words or 
prompting, for she had said nothing. But it was just 
her silence, and her having that very first day repelled 
Ragni — just on that account the poor thing had been 
hopelessly lost ; this all flashed through her mind like 
lightning ; she lay there like one deaf and paralysed. 
The doom she had read in her brother’s eyes, the death- 
doom — and she had not been mistaken, it was not in- 
tended for her son, it was intended for herself. She 
deserved death ! 

She was seized with horror, a cold sweat broke out 
over her like a stunning blow — now it was at hand ! 

Yes, now it was at hand ! She had thought all was 
over when her boy was well again ; but no, now it had 
come, now that she had regained her happiness in her 
husband and a firm footing altogether — nowit overtook 
and aimed a deadly blow at her. 

She hurried down to the study whilst Tuft was still at 
his supper and put the envelope on his desk ; she had 
on her hat and a shawl, and now she ran rather than 


MANHOOD. 


279 

walked toward her brother’s house ; now it must break 
or bend. 

Passing by a short cut she came right on the church. 
She remembered Ole’s last sermon and the tears came 
to her eyes ; for only think what it would have been if 
their mutual life had had such free scope and such 
aims from the first ! She wept as she hurried down to- 
ward the terrible house. She could see the white wall 
of the other house shining through the foliage to the 
left, the house Kule lived in, Kule the murderous instru- 
ment. No, no, no, she had not asked him to come ; she 
had had no share in it whatever ! Yes, she had heard 
it suggested and had thought it was quite a fair pro- 
ceeding. Some had looked upon it as a good joke, others 
had taken it seriously, even religiously ; Josephine could 
remember each word to which she had tacitly agreed ; 
each thought, too, that she had had.. 

Murder, murder ! She knew there was no forgiveness 
for her; of what use was it to go to her brother? He 
had saved her child — but beyond that he would have 
nothing whatever to do with her. All the same, from 
henceforth she was nailed to that spot ; even though she 
might die there. She ran with all her might. 

Her life was branded, after this she could never again 
look an honest person in the face. Cruelly and coldly 
she had killed an utterly, wholly innocent being, and 
had laid bare her brother’s home ! Henceforth where 
could she live ? What should she do now ? Seek her 
just punishment ! Yes, but she would administer it her- 
self. But first she must see him, hear him, and herself 
speak to him — yes, for she had something to say; he 
did not even know how she loved him and had always 
loved him, he hardly knew her. Site ran on, weeping. 

She saw him standing in the yard between the - house 
and the out-houses, bending over something he was car- 
rying ; she saw him above the currant and gooseberry 
bush hedge visible through the opening of the taller 
fruit-trees. She shuddered, but she kept on her way. 
Soon she was under the trees of the park ; then turned 
down to the yard ; nothing divided them but the out- 
house wall ; then she came quite forward. 

He stood with turned-up sleeves — his cuffs were off — 
in a yellow tussore silk coat, the same probably in which 
he had arrived two years ago, washing a travelling trunk 


2 SO 


J.V GOD’S WAV. 


under the pump ; all the labels pasted on by the rail- 
way people, one on top of the other, were to be taken 
off ; was he thinking of goingaway ? He was sun-burnt 
and thin, seen in profile his face seemed sharper ; then 
he heard her step and looked up — looked up into her 
tear-stained beseeching face ! No trace of her former 
bright-coloured dresses ; a dark cotton dress with a belt 
round her waist, a broad, shady, straw hat with a brown 
ribbon, a shawl hanging on her arm. Her tears burst 
forth, bitterly, despairingly : “ Edward ! ” she could get 
no further. 

For he dropped the trunk and drew himself upright ; 
a voice with a sort of break in it said : 

“ I can not forgive you, Josephine.” 

“ Edward, let me explain myself ! ” She turned to the 
house, in horror and despair at his stern face ; but he 
fancied she wanted to go in. 

“You shall never enter there ! ” and he put his hands 
on his sides as though he were keeping guard. 


XIII. 

Tuft left the supper-table and went into his study ; 
but he did not notice the envelope as he did not look at 
the desk. He went for a walk, which he often did in 
the evenings ; if Josephine had been down she would 
have gone with him, he thought. He walked for an 
hour ; it was Saturday and he got ready his sermon for 
the morrow. When he got home he sat down by the 
window with a book he was in want of ; he read, he 
dawdled about, and read again till ten o’clock. 

He went up to bed but did not find Josephine, neither 
was sire in her own room, in fact, nowhere all over the 
house. Then he went down to the study again, he 
would wait for her down there ; but where could she 
be ? Gone to see some sick person ? He knew of 
none. In mere absence of mind he took up the en- 
velope as he passed the desk ; his name was outside — 
was it written in Josephine’s hand ? He turned hot and 
went to the window the better to see. There was no 
seal ; but on the top of several papers lay a little note 
with the following words from Josephine : 

“ I have gone to him for my life’s sake.” 


MANHOOD. 


28l 


What was the meaning of this ? 

A quarter of an hour later Tuft was on his way past 
the church ; lie, too, rather ran than walked. He was 
the only guilty one ; long ago it was he who had given 
Josephine to understand that Ragni had been unfaithful 
to her first husband, and had thereby started everything 
that had since happened ! And unless it had been that 
he was jealous of his brother-in-law, he would hardly 
have taken their breach with the church, their inter- 
course with scoffers, as sufficient reason for keeping away 
and avoiding them. Even if his brother-in-law were to 
answer that Josephine was not sufficiently a Christian to 
join in persecuting Ragni on that account ; nor could 
she for that reason at once think the worst of a free- 
thinker, then Tuft would answer that it is not true 
Christians who do such things, but only those who are 
half-Christians. That man whose love for God has be- 
come the law of his life never judges ; but so much the 
more eagerly do the others do it. Josephine had been 
so situated that she could not become more than a half- 
Christian ; these theological studies stop a man’s growth. 

How clearly he saw it all now ! He could not bear, 
therefore, to think of her in her soul’s distress ; he ran so 
fast that he arrived panting through the park, the yard, 
and up on to the steps. The front door was locked — 
was it not more than ten o’clock ? He rang, and rang 
again, heard steps in the passage, it was the step of a 
man, Kallem himself opened the door. 

Is Josephine not here ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Has she not been here ? ” 

“ Yes, about an hour and a half ago.” 

“ Well ?” 

“ I forbade her to enter.” 

“ You did not even speak to her ? ” 

“ No.” 

Then Tuft, throwing out his right hand : “Now you, 
too, are ruled by dogmas,” turned his back on him and 
went off again. His broad hat over his broad shoulders 
had the effect of broadly accentuating his last words. 

Shortly after eleven the bell rang again, just in the 
same way. Kallem clime out at once, he had evidently 
not been in bed yet. 

It was Tuft who was there again ; but as far as Kal- 


282 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


lem could see, without being near him, he appeared like 
another man, horrified and harrowed. 

“ Where do you think she can have gone to, Ed- 
ward ? ” 

“ I think she must have gone to Ragni’s grave.” 

A choking sob, a visible welling-up of grief, and he 
turned and went away. His heavy footfall was heard 
far off through the stillness of the grove. 

Toward one o’clock there was again a ring at the 
door, but this time it was only one single timid peal. 
Kallem heard it directly and came out from the room — 
he was still sitting up. 

A woman stood there. Kallem, who was shortsighted, 
hurried up to her, but the voice proved to be Sissei 
Aune’s. “ Dear, kind doctor, be good and merciful ! ” 
Kallem thought she had come on his sister’s behalf, and 
that something had happened ; he shivered. But Sis- 
sei continued: “None but you can manage him; he 
gets quite mad every blessed night.” 

“ Do you mean Aune ?” shouted Kallem. 

“ Yes, he fancies he sees Kristen Larssen after him, 
so he rushes away through the town, into the wood and 
out on the high road; this is the third night, and I can- 
not stand it any longer. Dear, good doctor, I have no 
one but you to turn to,” here she began to cry, “and no 
one else has any power over him but you.” 

Had the clever bookbinder and fiddler gone mad ? 
Then had he freed himself from his power? Had he 
taken to drink again, was this delirium ? No, no, he 
was “mad” from fear of Kristen Larssen’s ghost. Kal- 
lem started directly with her. 

The sky was clouded, and the night very dark ; but a 
fresh northerly wind began to sweep the clouds away. 
It shook and rustled the trees by the roadside, whistling 
through the thick foliage and seeming to ask and ask 
all manner of things as they passed by. Was it not 
very strange that Aune, who had fooled people into be- 
lieving in Kristen Larssen’s ghost, should now be rush- 
ing about mad with terror of what he had himself set 
going ? Every evening after dark, Sissei declared that 
Aune imagined Kristen Larssen was after him and going 
to take him to hell ! At that instant a shriek was heard 
far off, one sharp, breathless call for help. It rose up 
like a spectre in the night, it seemed almost visible. 


MANHOOD. 


283 


“There he is!” cried Sissel, clasping her hands. 
“Christ help us!” she shrieked, and began run- 
ning. 

But Kallem hurried after her: “You will only be 
slower like that, Sissel ; go quietly — go quietly, 1 tell 
you ! ” 

She obeyed at once, but turned eagerly to him : 
“Who but Satan can persecute a man like that!” she 
said, breathlessly. At the same moment a watch-dog 
began barking close by, it was startled by the cries and 
barked on without stopping. Kallem raised his voice 
above the barking : 

“ It does not follow that Aune is more beset by Satan, 
Sissel, than that angry bitch in there ! Do you know 
how people found out Satan ? They thought every- 
thing was created perfect and they were in want of 
somebody on whom to throw the blame when sin did 
come into the world.” 

The furious dog rushed at them just at that moment ; 
Sissel fled over to Kallem. 

“What a savage beast ! ” he exclaimed, and stooped 
to pick up a stone. The dog retreated a few paces. 
There came a fresh shriek, nearer than the first one, a 
call for help with a last expiring gasp ; they shuddered, 
the very dog stopped short. Then it swung round and 
dashed past them in the direction of the ghost. 

“ God help us, now he will be hurt !” said Sissel, cry- 
ing and hurrying onwards; “the mad man must not be 
exposed to the dog’s attack ! ” 

But they heard it bark as though a wild beast were 
confronting it and going to fasten its teeth in it ; so 
they both ran as hard as they could ; Kallem was at 
once far past Sissel. It could hardly be Aune who was 
in danger ; the last shriek had not been so near ; the fur- 
ious beast had attacked the first person it came upon ; 
and who could that be ? Since he was a boy Kallem 
had not run so fast ; he could hear by the dog that 
there was a fight and he pushed on with renewed 
strength. Soon he saw something large and black by 
the roadside near the corner of the wood, and it was 
before this that the dog had stopped. Once again a 
piercing shriek rang out through the night ; it really 
came from there ! What was that great black mass ? 
Surely not an animal ? 


284 


IN GOD'S IV AY. 


No, it was a man, a big man fighting with a smaller 
one, and a dog with both of them. The big man kept 
turning round and round hitting out at the dog, at the 
same time keeping fast hold of the other man with his 
left hand. Then Kallem recognized the broad hat and 
the broad shoulders ; it was Tuft who was holding Aune, 
holding him with a giant’s strength ; the dog was trying 
to attack the latter, who kicked it away from him each 
time. Maybe Aune thought the dog was the devil and 
possessed by Kristen Larssen’s spirit, for the little man 
kicked and wriggled, bit, hit out, and struggled to get 
free ; he threw himself backwards and with the last re- 
mains of his hoarse voice he groaned, “Help! help!” 
If he had been frightened before, he became so now in 
good earnest as he saw Kallem’s figure appear in the 
dim light ; he let himself fall and began to howl. The 
dog flew at his leg directly. The minister lifted them 
both up ; the beast was in such a rage that it did not 
see Kallem before it got a kick from his foot which sent 
it flying a few metres off ! One short howl and a whine 
— a doctor knows where to hit — and they neither saw 
nor heard it again ; it may have been dead. 

Then Kallem took hold of Aune and the minister let 
him go. He, too, had been much maltreated ; his coat 
was all torn and dragging on the ground, the sleeve 
hung in rags down over his hand, his flannel shirt like- 
wise. He was bleeding from bites and scratches, but 
was so excited that he felt no pain. Kallem took little 
wretched Aune with both hands by the collar, lifted 
him up to his level, and, panting from his run and the 
rapid coursing of his blood, he stared straight into his 
eyes, until they grew wide open, dazed, and glassy, his 
mouth gaped, the muscles of the face relaxed, he hung 
there like a gutted herring. By the time that Sissel 
reached them, breathless and crying, Aune lay under 
the trees on the grass and slept. Both the men stood 
over him. 

Kallem said that Aune could stay where he was ; 
there would be no dew on account of the wind ; they 
should be sent for later. He expected to be able to 
cure this madness. 

The minister had taken off his coat, dried the blood, 
and bound up the worst places ; then they turned to- 
wards home. 


MANHOOD . 


2 S 5 

Not a word about Aune, or how it was he had come 
across him ; but hardly were they out on the road be- 
fore Tuft said piteously : 

“ She was not there, Edward, she was not there ! ” 
And shortly after : “ I can think of nothing else ; no, 
now I can think of nothing else. That you could send 
her away from you, Edward ! ” The thick foliage of 
the trees took up the murmur and kept on unceasingly : 
“ That you could send her away, Edward ! ” 

“ Do you know what she wrote and put beside the 
letters from you ? ‘For my life’s sake I go now to my 
brother’s.’ ” 

Kallem felt an icy chill. A thousand voices re- 
echoed : “ For my life’s sake,” and the sound drew 
nearer, encircling him closer and closer, till he could 
hardly draw breath. 

The day was about to dawn ; Tuft’s scratched and 
shiny face was turned toward the rising sun as though 
he were imploring : “ Mercy, mercy for her ! ” He hur- 
ried along as fast as he could ; he did not know where 
to look for her, but he felt he must walk and walk. 
Kallem too. 

“ Oh, the horror of it, the horror of it ! ” he burst 

forth. “ Do you remember the. night of the storm 

in our childhood, Edward ? We thought the world 

was at an end. Do you remember how frightened 

you were up on the hill the evening after ? This whole 
night the ‘deep-sea monsters’ have been trying to 
reach me too. The horror of it ! our soul’s horror of 
the punishment of sins ! From our childhood it drives 
away all our intelligence, just when we are most in need 
of it ; we run away in despair — or cast ourselves down 
in the dust before God. Perchance later on we get rid 
of this dogma of terror, but never of its effects. As I 
was walking along thinking of this, I came across that 
madman. He leapt up ; the terror was upon him ; he 
thought I was a ghost and the dog the devil ! And 
Josephine ! She too is in despair and flees away. And 
you, Edward ? You too must be swayed by terror if 
you can have the heart to torture her more than she 
now tortures herself. For that is the worst of terror, it 
hurts one ; he who has been terrified himself, learns to 
terrify others ! ” 

The words came from him heavily ; his walk was 


286 


IN GOD'S WAY. 


heavy too as he plodded along. Kalleni did not say a 
word ; when he suffered he was silent. 

But from a child the lay preacher’s son had been ac- 
customed to hear all life experiences converted into 
learning. His heart was bleeding ; but he talked on 
all the time. Kallem ought not to doubt Josephine ; 
she was the most honourable and truthful creature on 
the face of the earth. In this affair she had been led 
astray by him. In his deep pity for her, he laid bare 
her soul’s history as he himself saw it, and proved to 
him clearly that if she were to be cast off now by her 
brother she could not live. 

Occasionally Kallem interposed with a “ Dear Ole,” 
“ Listen to me, Ole but never got any further. For 
even when they reached his home and he took his 
brother-in-law in with him to attend to his wounds, 
Tuft talked on without ceasing ; it was as though his 
fear and uncertainty would have increased had he been 
silent ; and then too Edward must see her as he saw her, 
and above all help her! “All who have gone astray 
must be helped ; they who have sinned against us — as 
soon as they acknowledge it they must be helped above 
all others ! God’s forgiveness is, to help us on.” He 
was still going on with his explanations as Kallem ac- 
companied him to the door ; his giant strength was un- 
failing. But supposing that she meanwhile had: gone 
back to her child and to him. Certainly there was no 
great hope of it ; but he hurried away. 

It grew lighter. Kallem could not sleep, and at last 
could not remain at home. In fear, greater than he 
would own to his brother-in-law, he went in and out of 
the rooms, up and down as though the house were to be 
searched. For it was true enough that he too had both 
judged and condemned. 

His sister had always been fonder of him than he of 
her. That time they had danced together last winter 
he could tell that her love for him had not diminished. 
Yes, even when he struck her — had she not come then 

to do him good? Her attack on Ragni that time 

of course there was more than dogmatical narrow-mind- 
edness in it — it was jealousy ! Jealousy because he had 
become all in all to Ragni and washothing to her. He 
could have brought those two women together ; it was 
impossible to doubt that. Had he tried to do that ? 


MANHOOD. 


287 


The more he thought of it, the less right nehad to be 
severe ; for he was guilty too ! His sister’s great eyes, 
as he had seen them last evening, were resting on him 
now in her direst need, they seemed to gaze full at him. 
All her life long, confused and shy, when not carried 
away by passion, hampered by unnatural doctrines and 
defiant in her truthfulness — she had looked out for him, 
from year to month, from week to day. Then he came 
and had cast her off. Cast her off for one who was not 
worthy of him — so it seemed to her. 

Poor, poor Josephine ! He had thus never been any- 
thing for her, had only harmed her, and yet she in her 
faithfulness had always longed for him. 

The rooms became oppressive and he felt afraid ; he 
must go out and look for her. It was getting lighter 
and lighter and with the feeling that morning was near, 
he threw open the veranda doors ; but he had nothing 
to do out there ; on the contrary he would have to shut 
them again if he were really going out. So he stepped 
out to close them again and in doing so glanced on one 
side — and there, sheltered from the north wind by the 
veranda, sitting on Ragni’s bench just under his of- 
fice windows, was Josephine, with her shawl over her 
knees. She saw him and crouched down like a wounded 
bird, which cannot move away, yet must not be seen. 
And yet she was sitting there just to be seen. There 
was nowhere else she could be, for she had tried. He 
hurried down the steps toward her. Then she trem- 
bled : 

“ Oh, no, Edward, oh, no ; let me stay,” she implored 
and burst into tears. And even when lie took her by 
the arm and raised her up she kept on beseeching him, 

weak as any child : “ Oh, no, no, Edward, let me ” but 

she got no further, for she felt herself folded in his arms, 
and felt how he too was quivering with the emotion he 
could not control. He was not cruel, perchance he would 
listen to her, and she raised her arms and threw them 
round him mingling her tears with his; the brother and 
sister stood with their heads together, cheek resting upon 
cheek, all the similarity of their temperament, their first 
and oldest feelings, their love of homelike things, down 
to the very smell of their clothes in the passages at their 
parent’s house, all this met together in their one desire 
never again to part. 


288 


IN GOD'S IV A K 


And yet, when lie began to move with her toward the 
veranda, she stopped ; she could not believe that she 
would be allowed to go in. She looked at him through 
her tears ; lie forced her along, step by step. On the 
steps she again held back. But he led her on till they 
stood in the room; here she clasped her arms round him 
again and sinking down upon a chair, buried her face 
in her hands — everything in the room, he too, seemed 
listening to her sobs. 

Then he went up to her and stroked her hair ; but he 
knew it was not really he who did it, it was Ragni ! 

Arm in arm they walked that summer’s night through 
the town that was so wide-awake, although everyone 
seemed asleep. The long steps of brother and sister 
hurried on, keeping time as of old ; they said nothing 
about it, but they were looking for Ole ; forgot the short 
cut and came down the road to the shore. Soon they 
turned up toward the minister’s house. They had just 
gone a few steps along the road, when Josephine as it 
were felt drawn to look across the shore. She stopped 
directly and held back Edward. 

“Yes, it is he !” she whispered. 

Tuft came hurrying from out yonder, quickly, quickly, 
but with hanging head as though he could not bear it. 
In vain he had searched for her along the shore, he was 
now goingon with his search further southward — quickly 
as ever, though ever in vain. They both understood, her 
arm trembled in that of her brother. She pressed closer 
up to him, for just a moment ago she had told him that 

had she been driven out of his garden, then ! Hush ! 

They turned now and went to meet Ole. His quick ear 
heard the steps, he looked up, recognized her, opened 
his arms and could neither go a step further nor utter 
a sound. But Josephine left her brother’s arm and 
went to him. 


All three walked slowly homewards, the minister with 
Josephine on his arm, and Kallem at his other side. 
He said repeatedly : “God’s ways ! God’s ways ! ” 

“ But I do not share your faith,” Kallem felt bound 
to interpose. 

“ No, no, no, no,” exclaimed the minister eagerly. 
“ There where good people walk, those are God’s ways.” 


No. 3 


50 Cents, 


Xovell’s Series of foreign literature. 

Edited by EDMUND GOSSE. 


BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON. 


In God’s Way 

A NOVEL. 


TRANSLA TED FROM THE NORWEGIAN BY 

ELIZABETH CARMICHAEL. 


YORK: 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 

150 Worth Street. 

Issued Monthly. Annual Subscription, $5.00. February, 1890. 

Every work in this series is published by arrangement with the author , to 
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